With the sled, the distance covered in a single day was considerably more. After three hours, I turned the sled to the nearest building. We managed to get inside before the wind shifted. Thanks to the sled, we could spend more time warming up in the house.

    Days passed. Every morning, we spent those three hours sliding across the snow towards the Equator. The storm threw ice and lightning around in a frenzy, as if furious that I'd managed to use it to my advantage.

    As time went on, the period that we could use the winds grew smaller. By the time we were a week away from Quito, we could only stand the cold for two hours instead of three. My heart was in a constant race the closer we got to Quito. These were the defining moments of my future. If the Ark existed, then I was saved. If it wasn't real, then I was dead.

    One particular day, time began to close on our window to travel by sled. I examined our surroundings for a good shelter. We were in an area of low, spaced-out buildings. Turning the rudder a little made the sled angle to the side and we skidded around a group of structures. I continued to follow the line of structures until I realized it was in a loop. The buildings were arranged in a circle. By the time I reached the other side, the winds pushed the sail backwards. I was forced to turn around to prevent the sail from tearing.

    I'd never seen industrial buildings arranged in this way. Puzzled, I peered between the gap and saw another building in the center. It was surrounded by a chainlink fence. By the looks of it, the fence had never been cut. That fence was intact, meaning the building inside was. My heart picked up a pace at the thought of more supplies. No one had gotten through the fence yet. That meant that building was untouched and waiting for me.

    Determined, I guided the sled into the circle of buildings before reaching the fence. Hopping off the sled, I pulled down the sail before it could take the sled away. Chance sniffed around my feet, used to the ice precipitation by now. My body was covered with numerous bruises, but I was so cold that I hardly felt them anymore.

    With the sled secured, I examined the fence. The reason for why it was intact became clear. It had barbs hidden in the links, where someone would grab the fence and get stabbed before they saw the spike. Clever. And a pain. I didn't have wire cutters, so how was I going to get through this thing?

   What confused me was what this fence was tall. In order to still be several feet taller than me, it had to be tens of feet high. I stood on several layers of snow and ice. What kind of place had this tall of a fence?

    Examining the area, I finally got an idea. I clicked my tongue and Chance lifted his head. At my head jerk, he followed on my heels. I approached the nearest building and pulled the knife from my belt. My eyes scoured the building until I found an uneven layer of ice – thicker at one end and thinner at the other. Bracing my hand on the ice, I braced my knees before stabbing the knife into it. A few stabs later and a line cracked.

    It took half an hour to finally break off the wedge. Retrieving the sled, I managed to lever the ice wedge onto it. I set Chance onto the sled before grabbing the back. Digging my toes into the ice, I began to push it forward.

    The winds pushed northward, so I pushed the sled until we were on the south side of the fence. I dropped off the wedge of ice before moving to the next house. Chance sat on the sled and watched as I went from house to house, breaking off wedges of ice.

    The sun neared the horizon by the time I had enough ice. My face strict with concentration, I gathered all of the wedges. It took every ounce of my strength, but by the time I finished, the wedges were stacked into a ramp.

    God, I hope this works, I thought. I clicked at Chance. He jumped into the sled as I pushed it back a good thirty feet from the ramp. The thicker edge faced the fence and sat at about two-thirds its height. The wedge sat far enough away that I prayed the momentum would help me clear it. It would all depend on the wind.

    I tied the sail back onto the sled. The moment the sail was secure, the winds tried to steal it away. I held the sled down before I braced my hands on the back, took a breath, and began to run.

    Chance half-rose from his sit, alarmed, as I pushed the sled forward. My toes burned as the dug into the ice. The sled gained speed. The winds caught the seal and pushed it faster until it tried to leave my grip. I jumped into the sled and swore as it slowed down a bit. Chance looked at me with wide eyes as the sled sped up again.

    I gripped him in my arms as I watched the sled race for the ramp. Please, please. We hit it with a jolt. The jolt lost some of our speed. My heart dropped into my stomach as I realized we'd lost too much speed. The sled was going to hit the top railing of the fence.

    With Chance tight in my grip, I levered onto my feet in the split second the sled flew off of the top of the ramp. We were weightless for a split second. The sled crashed into the fence at the same time I picked my feet up.

    The sled hit the fence with a mighty crash. My body clotheslined on the top of the fence. Pain exploded through my hip, but I tipped over the top before plummeting into the snow below. Chance yelped as we fell into the snow with an explosion of white powder.

    I couldn't move for a second. Stars danced in my eyes. It felt as if a white-hot poker jabbed repeatedly into my hip. Ragged breaths left my lips as I cracked my eyes open, dizzy. Chance whined, trapped in the cage of my arms. I'd taken the brunt of the collision and fall. My hip had paid the price. If it wasn't broken . . . it'd be a miracle.

    And I was flat-out of miracles.

   I released Chance before gingerly feeling my hip. A groan escaped my lips as the pain intensified. Shit. Traveling on this hip... Hell.

    My eyes moved to where the sled had hit the fence. It sat on the ground now, dented and the sail broken. My gut sank. It was repairable, but I couldn't get to the sled today. I'd have to get it back tomorrow, after I'd had time to ice and examine my hip.

    Chance watched as I pushed myself into sitting up. Every time I voiced my pain, his ears would flatten from within his hat. He had to know I was hurt. He'd be able to smell the internal bleeding. He could hear my pain.

    Finally on my feet, I tried to move my foot forward, but my hip screamed. I staggered before grabbing the fence. It pierced through my glove, but didn't quite reach my hand. Bloody hell. First my hip, the sled, and now my glove. Everything is going wrong.

    Removing my hand from the fence, I looked down at my feet. They were buried in snow. My eyebrows creased. Snow. Why wasn't there a layer of ice on here? If there had been, I probably would have broken more bones on that fall. As it was, the snow left bruises on my side, but it had cushioned my fall well.

    There was no time to think about it. The sun was getting too close to the horizon. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to walk. The pain caused white spots in my vision. Chance followed on my right side, watching my left leg. I dragged that leg forward through the snow. Blood welled in my mouth from gritting my teeth.

    I finally reached the building. It was low to the ground but large, probably several thousand square feet. The nearest door was locked shut with a padlock. I examined it in my glove before grudgingly admitting that it hadn't frozen (must've been some special kind of substance), so breaking it with a crowbar wouldn't work. Not unless I could summon enough strength.

    Instead, I examined the other side of the door. The hinges looked frozen. My hand pulled the crowbar from the side of my bag. The metal on the bar had frozen too, but I hoped it was stronger than the hinges. I wedged it into the gap before shoving my weight against the lever. It took three pumps before the hinge on the middle gave way. A few minutes later and I got the other two hinges apart.

    I rammed my shoulder into the door and it swung open. The room inside was pitch black, seeing as there was no windows. I dragged my leg inside and allowed Chance in. He sniffed at the floor but didn't leave my side as I propped the door back up, wedging it back into the frame. There was a nearby box, so I dragged it over to prevent the door from blowing in.

    Looking at the room at last, my eyes immediately locked onto the hallway. It exited the room and was long, but what caught my attention was the end of it. It was lit up. The end of the hallway was lighter than the outside. I couldn't see the source of the light.

    I looked at the rest of the room. Confused, I opened the box I'd used to close the door. Inside sat several sleeping bags. I rifled through and found duffel bags, and in the bags was food. Lots and lots of food. Stunned, I pulled out a box of crackers. Saltines. I hadn't seen saltines in months.

    My mouth watered, but I looked over my shoulder at the hall. Food – unlimited food – or that light? I debated my choices. This food would last me long enough to get to Quito, but I wanted to know how that hall was lit up. The only thing I could think of was fire. Was someone else here?

    I didn't want a confrontation, but I wanted to know how the hell they'd gotten in here. The fence was untouched. Had they been here since Lover's passing? I didn't understand. Too many things weren't adding up. The formation of the building, the lack of ice, the expensive lock, the supplies, and now that light.

    I gazed back down at the food, sorely tempted to take it and leave. Making my decision, I closed the box. Chance followed as I headed for the hall. It was narrow and dark, but I focused on the end of it. My hand reached into my pocket, gripping the gun tightly. I had no idea if it would work anymore. The cold might've broken it beyond functioning.

    My eyes squinted as I reached the end. It was a door. Bright light spilled under the door. I looked at the knob, debating my options. There was a good chance that the moment I opened the door, I'd be shot dead by some hoarder. My eyes looked down at Chance. He stared at the door, waiting for me to open it.

    Trusting him, I turned the knob. Light spilled into the hall and I held a hand up to my face, blinded. I squinted to adjust to the light and heard a voice. "Come in."

    Bewildered, I looked around the door. My vision cleared. It was a small room, one with a desk and a man behind the desk. I didn't even look at him. My gaze shot upward to the ceiling. A florescent light buzzed from above. A light. Electricity.

    My lips parted in shock. I looked almost accusingly at the man sitting at the desk. His hair was long and tied at the nape of his neck, pitch black in the room. He wore a maroon sweater and cargo pants. His arms – heavily muscled – rested on the table where his hands clasped together. He looked like a bodybuilder. Brown eyes met mine inquiringly. "Are you going to come in or just keep staring?"

    My voice rasped before I cleared my throat. "You have power."

   His eyes flicked to the light before he nodded. "We do."

   "We?"

    "Please, just come inside and sit down. You look like you're going to die on your feet. We have a lot to talk about."

   Chance leaned against my foot. I scrutinized him. "Talk about? I don't know you."

   The man didn't smile. "You know me. Just consider me Noah of the Ark, sir."

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