Four Live Rounds by Blake Crouch Read Free Book Online Page A

cloudless and
bright. They saddled the two remaining horses and broke camp as the
first rays of sunlight struck the Teats, Oatha clinging to
    Dan, Nathan to the substantial girth of
McClurg.
    A quarter mile out from the shelter, Dan’s
horse stopped in its tracks and refused to take another step, snow
to its belly, nostrils flaring in the thin air.
    “I’ll make you go!”
    He dismounted, grabbed the bridle strap and
fought to drag the horse forward, but it wouldn’t budge, even when
Dan drew his Colt and smacked the animal across the bridge of its
nose.
    “Enough,” Nathan said. “These animals ain’t
built for this.”
    “Maybe just one of us should take a horse,
try to make Abandon,” Oatha said.
    “Who, you?”
    “To what end?”
“To get help. Bring back a sled or a—”
    “Snow’s too deep,” Nathan said. “Hell, it’s
just early October. We’ll get us a warm spell in a couple days.
Good sod-soaker.”
    “We’re almost out a provisions,” McClurg
said. “We’re just supposed to wait around?”
    “I ain’t in control of the weather,
Marion.”
    Oatha climbed down from the horse, and Dan
screamed at the animal, “Go on! Get!”
    “No, you dumb shit,” Nathan said. “We need
‘em.”
    “For what?”
    “Hard to tell just how long we may be stuck
out—”
    “I ain’t eatin my horse.”
    “Circumstances like this ain’t the time to
make declarations a what you will and won’t
    do.”
     
    It was snowing again by nightfall, and it
didn’t stop for three days, the snow accumulating higher than the
canvas tarp so that the shelter more resembled a snow cave.
     
    Oatha could tell by the brightness of the
tarp that the sun was out.
    McClurg snored.
    Nathan stared grimly in his direction, said,
“He left.”
    “Who?”
    “Who ain’t here?”
    Oatha saw where the wall of snow had been
broken through behind him, cobalt sky and fir trees powder-blown
and sagging.
    “Where are the horses?” Oatha asked.
    “Dan took one. The other’n keeled.”
    Oatha’s head was hurting again—dehydration
instead of whiskey and the beginnings of real hunger. He’d eaten
the last of his cheese and bread two nights ago.
    “We botched it,” Nathan said. “Should’ve
walked out after the first storm. Wouldn’t of been fun, might’ve
froze, but we’d of had a chance.”
    “You don’t think we got one now?”
     
    They butchered the calico that had just died,
cut warm, blood-colored steaks out of its haunches and grilled them
over a low fire. The smell of the meat cooking and the sounds of
what little fat there was burning off gave Oatha a charge of
energy, made him realize just how hungry he was.
    The meat was stringy and tough, commiserate
with the lean muscularity of the horse, but he ate his fill of it
and slept for the rest of the day.
     
    “Tell you what,” Nathan said two nights later
as they roasted the last of McClurg’s horse. “God’s been waitin for
this, and I know he’s enjoyin ever minute of it. You just had the
misfortune a being with me when he finally caught up to my
ass.”
    “Wonder if Dan’s made it to Abandon or
Silverton,” McClurg said.
    “I hope he’s froze. Don’t mention his name
again.”
    “He might come back and save us.”
    “That happens, I’ll reevaluate my feelings
toward the man.”
    “So tell me,” Oatha said, “you boys weren’t
going to Abandon for the mining opportunities, were you?”
    Nathan glanced at McClurg, let slip a little
smirk. “Let me put it this way. This horrible weather saved your
life.”
    “I don’t get your meaning.”
    “Sure you do. You was gonna try and take your
leave of us your first chance. If I’m wrong, you can have my
portion a Barney the horse.”
    “You was gonna kill me?”
    “Dan would of done the honors, him bein our
resident cutthroat.”
    Nathan grabbed hold of the hoof, turned over
the horse’s leg.
    “Why?” Oatha asked.
    “For whatever money you had. For your horse.
Because the first night I