Page 26 of Coordinates of Death

“Roger Dodger. Bertie and Mya, over and out.”

She handed the radio back to Howie. “He’s sure interesting. How did he end up living on the mountain?”

“That’s the question everyone asks but no one knows.” He picked up a physical map and yellow highlighter. “Your tablet won’t work up there.” He highlighted a path up the mountain and circled the ridge. “That’s where Bertie is.” He handed the map to Aurora.

“Thanks. Where are your snowmobiles?”

He lifted keys off a hook and passed them to her. “In the shed, but you’ll only get so far with them. You’ll need full gear to get the rest of the way. You got that?”

“We do, Howie.” Kordell gestured to his pack. “Plus, more in the Tahoe.”

“The Elimac Mountain area is rough. Lots of rock and lakes and little shelter, except for an abandoned ranger station. Be prepared for the worst, especially in this storm.” He raised his index finger. “I’ll grab you food supplies. You’ll need them.” He jogged down a hallway on the left.

“Let’s suit up,” Kordell said.

Fifteen minutes later, Aurora adjusted her snowsuit zipper and put on her helmet before mounting the snowmobile. She pointed to her right. “We head that way for a couple of miles.”

Kordell put on his goggles. “Ready?”

She started her machine. “Let’s do this.”

The pair zoomed toward the mountains, zipping in and out of the trees as they made their ascent to the rough terrain Howie had warned them about. After reaching the hill near Gunrunner Ridge, Aurora and Kordell parked their machines under a cluster of trees, cutting the engines.

“Push them farther under the brush.” Kordell did a three-sixty, looking at the area. “Not that I suspect there are many in this region, but we can’t take any chances.”

“Agree.” Aurora pushed her snowmobile beside his and removed her helmet. “Grab some water before we start the climb.” She brought out hers and took a long swig.

Kordell did the same before stuffing the bottle in his pack’s side pocket. “Time for our snowshoes.” He lifted them from his machine’s small trailer and handed her a pair.

After snowshoeing for forty-five minutes, they reached the rocky ridge.

“We can’t maneuver these over the rocks, so attach your snowshoes to the backpack like this.” Kordell showed her how to do it. “I remember you weren’t much for winter sports. Or has that changed?” He lifted his goggles onto his forehead and winked, his grin exploding on his handsome face.

Melting the wall around her heart. Don’t do that to me, Kord. Focus. “A little. Living in the Yukon, one has to adapt to the dicey conditions.” Ignoring what this survivalist was doing to her, Aurora fastened her shoes and strapped the pack onto her shoulders. “Ready.”

“Remember, stay behind me. Do what I do. Step where I step.”

“Got it.” She followed him, mimicking every move and step over the next fifteen minutes until a plume of smoke broke through the snowy sky. “Over there.” She pointed, breathing in the welcome smell of a roaring fire.

A dog barked, announcing their presence.

Moments later, a tiny log cabin came into view. The quaint, cozy setting, including a narrow veranda, a rocking chair stationed beside the door, and a woodpile to the side, reminded Aurora of something she’d see on a movie set. An ax rested against a nearby chopping block.

The door creaked open, and a white, tan, and black hound bounded down the steps, barking.

“Mya! Simmer down.” A tall, burly man with a grizzled salt-and-pepper beard spilling onto his belly stepped onto the veranda. His fur-lined parka gaped open over a buffalo plaid shirt and overalls, his winter boots tied halfway.

Bertie Hamilton personified the stereotype of a hermit living a mountain life.

Aurora couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear at the sight of him. “Bertie, I presume?”

“You got it, purdy lady.” He hobbled down the steps, holding out his bare hand. “Howdy, folks. Good ta meet ya both.”

They shook hands.

“Our pleasure, Bertie.” Kordell bent down and ruffled Mya’s ears. “You too, girl.”

“Y’all want to sit by the fire?”