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“It’s better hot,” she said “Here, I’ll clean up”

She handed hied it into the pot Hannah repacked all the ite under the edges of the ground sheet and lifting it

Hannah looked over her shoulder and there it was again, the sareat grey furrows This was not going to be a regular storm, she could tell These clouds were different, not the fat, snow-bearing slate-grey clouds of two days ago These clouds roiled They separated anddarker, uglier patches

A storm like that would not be over in an hour A storm like that could last for days

She began to pack es beneath her fingers, the cold plastic of the radio, the lightened weight of the first-aid kit, which she kept near the top

She called the dogs and hooked the over to the fire She took out her fork as shethe pot

“Okay, let’s eat”

“It’s not ready yet”

“We have to eat fast and get going”

“Well, you’ll be eating it half-frozen, then”

“Fine But hurry up”

He made a face as if to say, How exactly can I hurry this? and kept stirring

Hannah looked up at the sky again, then at the packed sled and the dogs She felt tendrils of urgency gathering in her belly, htly sick to her stomach She took out her spoon and tried not to hover as Peter stirred the pot — their last meal

“Does Jeb know you want to join the Army?”

“Yeah”