Chapter 16: Caught

"Chair," Granger said.

I yanked my sweater back over my head inside out.

Then I was out of the cab and dragging the tarp off the truck bed.

The chair came down into the snow with a clang.

I wheeled it to his door. He swung himself into it, and it rolled back a foot under his weight.

I caught it with my hip.

He buttoned his flannel with steady fingers. He was breathing hard.

"The blade," he said.

"In my boot."

"Good. Your sweater's inside out."

"Good," I said, and left it.

The trucks came around the last switchback one after another and stopped in a half circle, high beams on us.

I put my hand up against the glare.

Doors slammed.

A dozen warriors climbed out into the snow. The Gamma was one of them. He wouldn't look at me.

Jagger got out of the lead truck last, in a long wool coat with the collar turned up.

He walked into the headlights and looked at us for a while.

At me, with my sweater inside out.

At his brother, in the snow, in a wheelchair, at midnight on a closed pass.

"Well," he said. "This is new."

"Go home, Jagger," I said.

"This road is closed by order of the Alpha. That's me." He tipped his head at Granger. "What's he doing up here?"

"I brought him."

"Why?"

"To see where he fell."

I let my voice shake. It wasn't hard.

"Three months, and nobody ever brought him back up here. Not one person in that pack. Not his own brother. So I did."

A couple of the warriors shifted their feet.

One of them looked at the ground.

Jagger's flashlight swept past us toward the twisted pines.

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