You'd cried a little during your trip from Winnipeg to Matt's house. But a sigh of utter relief washed through you as the trees parted to the sight of Matt's cabin with the wrap-around porch.

Carefully parking Regina's car, you notice not only that your gas tank couldn't get you much farther as well as the fact Matt's red truck was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart sinks, but you can only hope that he's out on an errand. Maybe if you look around there will be clues as to whether or not he's still around.

Stepping up the front steps to the door, you go to the wooden deck chair ones again and lift up the seat. Thank God, Matt's key was inside again.

Picking it up, you stuck it in the door and went inside, although with a pang of worry realized the door hadn't required the key. It had already been open.

It was eerie, how strangely untouched everything felt. In fact, it appeared nothing had moved since your kidnapping. Even a glass of water you'd sat on the kitchen counter was where it remained, although it's content's wasn't something you'd drink anymore. A thin film of dust seemed to cover everything once again.

Matt hadn't been here.

You want to cry again, wanted him or Regina to be here. You just wanted a home again. But now was not that time for tears. There was still searching to be done.

Wanting to do what home you had a little justice, you found the utility closet, pulled out a broom and duster, and went to work. First you swept the kitchen, having to kick a few insects into the dustpan.

Looking in the fridge was disappointing. But at least Matt had taken his food with him, wherever he was now.

You are tidied up the living room next, although as you did so the whole concept felt a little melancholy. What, it's not like you'll be having company. But at any rate, you continued on your way since, in a way, it simply felt right.

Slipping on your boots from the department store, you slip out into the woods. They're green with summer again, just as when you left. The poachers would be out and about.

And Matt wasn't here to scare them off...

You tread through the trees in a direction you've done so before. And soon the shed Matt had been ambushed in came into view. Discomfort found you all over again just like the first time you saw the bloody hand prints in to window. Even though you'd known Matt was alive, a flash of horror went through you as you imagined him laying where he'd been when you left. Untouched, but rotting alongside the poacher he'd killed inside the same building.

With sudden urgency, you flung one of the doors open. These doors were not locked either. Matt must have left in a hurry to have left this place open as well as his house. He must have known no one would come.

You stepped inside carefully, instantly bringing a hand to your face. The poacher lied there, his face sunken in from decay. You looked away from him, not daring to look much longer than those few seconds. On the floor where Matt had been laying was a puddle of dried blood on the cement floor of the shed as well as the Team Canada hockey stick Josh had given him. It hadn't moved an inch from last you saw it, the blood spattered on it blending in with the country's bright red color eerily.

The wood had splintered, and with a pang you remembered Regina's lack of hope Josh was her son. You hoped so, and with a little frown you picked up the pieces of the now twice broken stick. Such a shame, really, since Josh had prized it so much. Quietly you decided to fix it up yourself before leaving. Matt should have the supplies somewhere to do just that.

Turning to the also bloodstained work table, you lifted your shirt up over your nose as you read a yellowed note laying on the wood. It was Matt's handwriting, and some blood had dripped onto the paper. It had been written a year ago, obviously, as the ink had been worn a little and the paper discolored from sunlight coming in the window. 

Chickadee,

I need to leave quickly, but I've left everything for you in case you come back before I can find you.

He was looking for you then! You smiled a little in hope and read on.

I am sorry that I've failed you. I cannot tell you where I am going, since I can't be followed if I hope to find you and kick Al's ass. As I write this I know I don't have long if I don't get myself fixed up, so I'm making this quick. 

63° N 90° W

Stay safe. Don't stay in one place too long. Take whatever you need to get away from him. I can only hope you've escaped him. He didn't used to be this way; it's all my fault, and I need to fix it before he hurts you and more people.

I hope we cross each other's paths again, Chickadee. 

The next words looked written almost with a hasty and yet frantic speed.

I love you. - Matt

You smiled wider than you had in a very, very long time. He'd written that he loved you. He was looking for you. He was alive. Matt, your uncle you'd been forced upon, loved you...

With a newly renewed hopeful attitude, you ran from the shed to the house with your grin. It didn't waver as you kicked off your boots at the door and sat down at the kitchen table to decipher the numbers on the note. You wanted to revel in the fact he was alright, but he'd also said not to linger very long as well.

You looked at what came off to you as coordinates right away. 63 degrees north, 90 degrees west...

Maybe they were latitude and longitude coordinates for wherever Matt was! 

Wondering if he had a hanging map in his office, you opened the creaky door and smiled again to find a map of Canada hanging on one of the walls. Kuma's big white hair covered bed was in a corner beside the desk with notes also written in Matt's hand writing. Investigating them, you realized they were mostly simple log notes or something of the like. 

Going to the map, you found the 60 degree line, straying from it a little to get 63, and followed it north on the map until you met the 90 degree west line. 

Chesterfield Inlet. Matt had gone home again, perhaps after looking for you. 

You knew where you had to go, but your heart sank a little. It wasn't just some nice little drive there. And you didn't think you'd have enough money to make it all the way to Nunavut. But you had to keep moving. You knew that whether Matt had told you or not. Allen was on your tail, and now that you'd had a taste of nature again, the last thing you wanted was to return to the skyscrapers and people everywhere.

After venturing out again, just for the sake of walking more after your long drive from New York. To your surprise and excitement, you'd discovered your bow and arrows still perched against the tree. Again, the eerie feeling of this place being untouched made you curious yet glad. picking up the bow gingerly. The once slick and freshly shiny wood was dull from weather and moisture, and yet Matt's signature was just as prominent as ever in the wood. You vowed to fix it up as well as Josh's hockey stick.

You were sitting on the wooden chair on the deck taking some stain you'd found in Matt's shed and brushing coat after coat of it on the poor wood, slowly restoring it to what it was a year ago. But with a start, you heard the crunch of dirt under tires approaching the house.

"Oh no..." you murmured, getting up and grabbing your things before bringing them inside and sitting them just inside as you peeked out the window to see who'd arrived.

It wasn't anyone you recognized, and strangely you sighed. Perhaps he was just a lost tourist, looking for the national park entrance. He had on a long coat, his messy light brown hair fluttering in the forest breeze. He looked around with the same admiralty you had when you'd first seen the large cabin. Through the door, you hear him clear his throat and come up the steps. He knocked three times, and hesitantly you opened the door to him.

He made a sad little smile at you, gulping a moment before speaking. "Er... Hello. Are you Miss [Name]?" His accent was British, his eyes bright and green. Although sadness sat in them as he looked at you.

"Mind if I ask who you are first?" you murmur cautiously.

He shook his head, smiling a little and chuckling to himself. "Of course, of course. How rude of me!" He held out a hand to you to shake. "I'm Arthur Kirkland."

~~~~~~~~~

Well look who showed up! Looks like you have a visitor. -u-

Wow, this must be a record for me! Two posts in 24 hours! I wanted to post this last night but fell asleep on my computer. XD I tend to do that a lot, whether I'm writing or doing homework or whatever.

ANYWAYS I want to say that the Just Over NY playlist is complete! You can find the link to it on my message board. I'll try to keep it near the top for you all. >w0 Some songs reference to the story, some are just music I listen to while I work on it. Enjoy!!

~AAMU