“Logan, exactly!” Maddie yelled again, and Logan tried to match his steps to hers.
He tried to be fast.
He tried to be careful.
He needed so badly to be with Maddie again, both of them finally on the same side of the river after what felt like a lifetime apart.
Stefan grappled behind him, and the ropes swung. The bridge shifted, snow and ice crashing off the sides and disappearing into the vast darkness below.
But he was almost there. He could actually make out the look in her eyes—the little ring of blue that surrounded her irises. It was dark and he knew he couldn’t actually see it—not really. But he could see her in a way he hadn’t in years.
Somehow, it was a way he had never seen her.
So when the look of terror filled her eyes, he couldn’t help but turn back.
Stefan had dragged himself free of the broken boards and was on his feet again, running toward them.
“Logan, now!” Maddie shouted, and Logan leaped toward her, bypassing the last six steps of the bridge. He landed hard on the ground and rolled as Maddie reached for him.
He tried to get to his feet. They had to run. They had to—
But Maddie’s arms were around him then, pulling something from the small of his back.
She got free and rolled. Then, in one single, fluid motion she cocked the flare gun and aimed at the center of the old rope bridge.
There was still ice all over it, but Maddie had scraped away a lot as she walked, and when she took aim there was no indecision, no crisis of conscience or faith.
She was the image of her father as she fired.
Logan hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten—it had happened little by little, bit by bit. But as soon as the flare left the gun it was instantly daylight—if sunlight were the color of fire.
Red streaked across the sky and soared across the dark ravine.
It reminded Logan vaguely of the Fourth of July. The first year he’d celebrated at the White House, Maddie had come over and her dad had made arrangements for them to go up on the roof with the snipers. It was the best view in DC, everyone said, and they’d lain together on an itchy blanket watching fireworks over the Washington Monument. Logan remembered the big, booming sounds, the streaking lights in reds and blues. But most of all, he remembered thinking that he should hold Maddie’s hand but knowing that would be weird since she’d just started being his friend. His only friend. He couldn’t run the risk of grossing her out by touching her with the hand he’d been using to eat popcorn with too much butter.
And that’s what he thought about then.
Not Stefan.
Not Alaska.
Not even how cold and hungry and exhausted he was. How terrified.
Logan just wished he’d been brave enough to hold Maddie’s hand.
When the flare hit the center of the bridge, nothing happened for a moment. It seemed as if maybe the fire was going to die there, smothered by the snow and the ice.
But then the old ropes and wood exploded in a wave of color and fire and heat, and Logan didn’t doubt anymore. He swore to never put off anything ever again, and he reached for Maddie’s hand, pulled it into his own.
It was so small, and not nearly as smooth as it should have been. It was a hand that had known work and hardship and …
Maddie pulled away, and Logan fought the hurt that was growing in his chest. Maybe she didn’t want to touch him. Maybe she really did hate him, would hate him forever.
But Maddie walked to the side of the bridge, and then he saw a huge knife buried in the post, waiting.
“Stefan took your knife,” he blurted like an idiot.
Maddie looked like she’d never been more insulted in her life. “I never leave the house with just one knife. Seriously. Do I look like a one-knife kind of girl?” She pulled it from the post and Logan could see the fire glistening off of a long blade that could have easily sliced through those old ropes. But they hadn’t needed it. Yet.
She shoved the knife into a sheath in her boot. “Always have a backup,” she said, and Logan heard a crack. He looked back to see the bridge breaking apart.
Stefan had rushed back to the other side, but he’d lost his pack. It was lying there, in the center of the bridge that was burning all around him.
The pack with the satellite phone.
Logan didn’t think. He just started for the bridge. If he could get the pack, he could get the phone, and then this would all be over.
The pack was between Logan and the fire and he could get there. He could—
But he never made it to the bridge, because Maddie’s hand was back in his again, holding tight, yanking in the opposite direction.
“I can get it!” he yelled, but Maddie pulled back.
“Leave it!” she shouted.
Smoke filled the air as the fire spread. In the new light he could see her plainly, the worry in her eyes. The tension and the fear.
He tried to pull away again.
“We need it!” he shouted, but Maddie was stronger than she looked. So very strong as she pulled him back to her, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him tight.
“I need you more.”
The fire crackled and the bridge burned, and Logan knew without a shadow of a doubt that they could never, ever go back. This moment was going to change their lives forever.
He turned and looked at what lay on this side of the ravine. More trees. Another steep hill and ice-covered rocks.
And then he heard it, something like a pop. He risked a glance back, expecting to see the bridge finally breaking apart and falling into the abyss, but the bridge still stood. Barely.
He heard the sound again, the echo of the shot off the steep stone walls of the mountains that surrounded them. And through the smoke and the haze and the falling snow he saw the assassin on the opposite bank, arm raised and steady. Stefan’s gun didn’t even quiver as he shot again. And again.
“Run!” Logan and Maddie both shouted, and they started for the cover of the trees.
They never stopped holding hands.
Dear Logan,
The next time you see me, you should call me Dr. Maddie. I basically have a medical degree in first aid. I mean, I know there is no such thing, but there totally should be. I can dig out a splinter using a safety pin or a pair of tweezers (which, really, what self-respecting girl DOESN’T have a pair of tweezers?). I can treat burns and scrapes and lots of stuff way too gross to put on paper.
So, yeah. Call me Dr. Maddie.
But who am I kidding?
You’re never going to call me anything ever again.
Maddie
Logan could hear the shots still coming, long after he and Maddie were lost among the cover of the trees. The red glow of the fire was fading, but they took advantage of what light there was. Soon, there would be nothing but darkness and more snow. And probably bears.
Man, he really hoped there wouldn’t be bears.
But then an even scarier thought occurred to him.
“Mad, is there really a Black Bear Bridge?”
She looked up at him. “Yes.”
He wanted to curse but didn’t. “I saw it on the map, I think. But it didn’t look like a half day’s walk.”
“No. It’s closer. But he doesn’t know that. And I needed him to come this way. I needed …” She trailed off. She was breathing hard, Logan noticed. She’d been so strong for so long. He wanted to hug her, but the hand-holding was new enough. He didn’t want to risk it.
“It worked, Mad. It was genius. It was evil. You’re an evil genius, and I’m … I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“Don’t act so surprised,” she told him.
They walked on for a few minutes. The light of the fire was almost gone now. They couldn’t even hear the Russian curse words piercing the too-cold, too-clear air.
With every step the snow and sleet fell harder, collecting on their hoods and their shoulders, and Logan didn’t want to
think about what would happen if they stopped moving, even for a minute.
“What’s over here?” he asked.
“On this side of the river?”
“Yeah. There wasn’t much detail on Stefan’s map.”
As Maddie shrugged, she lost her footing for a moment. She held tighter to Logan’s hand to keep her feet.
“More of the same, I think,” she said. “A few mining roads that have been out of commission for ages. An old ranger’s station, but no one uses it, and I doubt it’s stocked. Plus, it’d take all day to walk there.”
Logan looked around the dark forest. “We’re running out of day.”
“Yes,” Maddie said, and Logan could actually hear her teeth chattering.
“You’re freezing,” he said, trying to pull her closer.
Maddie winced and pulled away.
At first, he felt silly. He felt hurt. Maybe the hand-holding and the kissing and the superdramatic hugging were all for Stefan’s benefit. Maddie was never going to have to slip a key from her mouth into his again, he realized. He was almost disappointed.
But then Maddie stumbled on the almost smooth ground. She was no longer the girl who had leaped across a decaying, ice-covered bridge. Instead, she was bending at the waist, and even in the darkness, Logan could tell that her face was too pale. Her hand had been too cold—even given the air and the snow and the terrible day they’d had.
“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” she said, but the words slurred and she swayed again.
“Maddie!” he snapped. He was almost mad at her. He was furious at himself as he went for the zipper of her outer jacket. She tried to push his hands away, but she was too weak.
His heart pounded in his chest and his hands started to shake for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold as he unzipped her jacket. Then he pulled aside a layer and felt it—something warm and sticky beneath the logo on her jacket.
Something that smelled like blood.
Maddie swayed a little. She tried to laugh as she looked up into his eyes and said, “Tag. I’m it.”
And then she passed out cold.
Maddie was dreaming. She had to be. Why else would it feel like she was flying, floating through the air? Why else would she be hearing Logan’s voice, talking to her through the dark?
“Stay with me, Mad Dog. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay. Wake up, Maddie. Wake up. Wake up!” Logan shouted.
But it wasn’t Logan. It couldn’t be. Logan was back in DC and he wasn’t her friend anymore. He’d never be her friend again.
Logan had died in that White House corridor. Her friend had died, gone away forever. But now he’d come back to her.
In her dream.
Maddie tried to roll over. She wanted to pull the covers up higher, wrap herself in them tighter. She wanted to stop shaking.
“No. Don’t. Stop fighting, Mad Dog,” Dream Logan told her, but Maddie wanted to laugh at him. Shows what he knew.
Maddie never could stop fighting.
But first she had to get warm.
She really should get up and put some more wood on the fire, but her eyelids were too heavy. And Dream Logan, as annoying as he might be, was better than No Logan. So Maddie let her eyes stay closed.
“Here,” Dream Logan told her, and Maddie was suddenly warmer.
Maddie was so warm. She felt so safe. And so she slept.
And she had dreams of Real Logan, even though he was a lifetime away.
Dear Logan,
I’m sorry that the stupid Russians shot you.
Mainly because I really want to shoot you, and I hate that they beat me to it.
Maddie
Maddie wasn’t dying.
No. Logan wouldn’t let her.
When he was little, Logan’s mother used to tell him that he was the most stubborn child in the world. But that had been before they’d both met Maddie. She never gave up. She never gave in.
Maddie clung to life, so Logan clung to her. The farther he walked, the tighter he held her, and Logan didn’t even feel the chill of the falling snow, even though he’d wrapped her in his jacket. He could still see the traces of blood on her face from her fall this morning. He knew the wound on her shoulder was probably still bleeding no matter how hard he had tried to stop it.
The little strip of red made him think about DC and That Night, about the fluttering fabric that trailed behind the rolling cart, about the realization that he might be about to lose his mother.
And then Logan realized that was no longer the scariest moment of his life.
This was the scariest moment of his life.
So Logan gripped her harder and kept moving.
Away from the burning bridge. Away from Stefan’s only path over the ravine, assuming he made it there through the storm and the darkness.
Logan wasn’t going to let Maddie go. Not now. Not ever again.
As soon as he stepped out of the helicopter—as soon as he’d seen her—he’d known she was different. Not just taller. Not just stronger. Not just significantly less sparkly.
No, the real change in Maddie had been in her eyes. They’d always shone like maybe they were bedazzled. But that light was gone, Logan had thought the day before.
Was it just a day?
He had to think. Of course it was. He’d been in Alaska a little over twenty-four hours.
He looked down at the girl who was sleeping in his arms. For twenty-four hours she had felt like a stranger, but with her eyes closed, in the shadowy darkness of the forest with only the palest hint of moonlight reflected off the snow, she looked like the Maddie he used to know, like maybe she had fallen asleep watching a movie or maybe like she was just playing possum, wanting him to tickle her awake. For a minute, he could see his Maddie in the girl in his arms, as long as she was asleep.
So it was harder than it should have been to shake her one more time and say, “Maddie, wake up.”
But she didn’t even stir.
And Logan knew whatever he was doing, it wasn’t enough.
He eased her to the ground and held his breath as he felt for her pulse. It was there, but faint. He leaned closer and felt her breath on his cheek—too light, though. He could see his own breath fogging in the cold air, but Maddie’s was invisible. He had to check again, to make sure it was there.
And only then did Logan start to feel himself panic.
He’d read books on first aid. He’d gone through a documentary kick two summers before, and he knew that Maddie had lost a lot of blood today. She’d been shot. She’d been knocked down a cliff. And head wounds bled like crazy. Plus she was so little and it was so cold outside. No wonder she was shaking.
Except …
Logan went from scared to terrified when he realized she was no longer shaking.
“Maddie!” he yelled. He had to get her awake. He had to get her warm. He had to get her dry and hydrated and fed and … safe. He had to get Maddie safe.
But the snow was heavier. It landed on her face with thick white flakes that melted on her smooth skin. It made it look like she was crying.
And now that Logan had stopped walking, he was starting to shiver, too. His skin was actually slick with sweat, but that was a lie. Logan wasn’t hot. His body was lying to his mind, and soon the shock of it all was going to set in. Soon he was going to crash from this adrenaline and then …
Logan wasn’t going to think about what happened then.
He rested for a moment, sitting on a log, but he kept Maddie on his lap. Maybe to consolidate their body heat. Maybe he didn’t want to place her frail body on top of the snow and the ice. Or maybe Logan just wasn’t going to let her go again. Ever. So he kept her on his lap as he thought.
“Hey, Mad Dog.”
Somehow, Logan knew he had to keep talking. Not for her. But for him.
“You got big, you know. But I guess I got bigger. Mom told me to stop growing, but it’s been a long time since I’ve done what they told me to do. You know that, don?
??t you?”
Logan looked up at the sky that was so dark. He’d never seen anything so dark. He’d lived most of his life in cities, and even in the country—at places like Camp David—in Logan’s world there were security lights and headlights and flashlights.
There was always light.
But Logan and Maddie were alone in the darkness. He knew that there were millions of acres around them, and Logan didn’t see a single, solitary light—not on any of the distant hills. They were very much alone.
“I don’t think your dad’s going to be able to make it back in this, Mad Dog.” He touched her forehead. It was still warm, but not too warm. If a fever was coming, it hadn’t found her yet.
“I think you’re stuck with me. I think we’re alone. But that’s okay. I promise not to tell anyone. I don’t think they’ll make us get married.”
He looked down at her sleeping face.
Sleeping, Logan reminded himself. He absolutely refused to even think the word unconscious.
“That was a joke, Mad Dog. Wake up and laugh. Or, better yet, wake up and call me an idiot. Do it, I dare you.”
Maddie never had been able to turn down a dare.
That must have been what did it, because Logan saw the snowflakes on her long, dark eyelashes start to flutter.
“Logan,” she said, then tried to move. She tried to roll over in his arms, but Logan just held tighter.
“You’re not here,” she said, eyelids fluttering again, then going still, like she wanted to go back to sleep, but Logan couldn’t let that happen.
“Maddie, stay with me.”
“You’re not here,” she said again, but he shook her. Gently.
“Oh, I’m not?” He wanted to laugh he was so happy just to hear her groggy words.
She tried to twist in his arms again, but this time she was twisting closer, snuggling into his warmth, and Logan didn’t fight her in the least.
“No. You’re gone,” she said. “I’m just dreaming that you’re here. And that you’re hot now.”
“You think I’m hot?”
Maddie made a little sound and nodded, something like uh-huh. “Dream You is. But he’s not real.”