"You're lucky. I shot my last three." As she headed toward the cabin, Syra added, "And it wasn't with the flat bolt."
Well, at least things were a mite more amusing with the two new additions to their crew.
But as Jess entered Zarek's cabin behind Bjorn, Syra, and three of the Squires, his humor died.
The rest of the group had to wait outside since no one else would fit in the small square space.
This wasn't a case of the cabin being bigger inside than it looked outside. It was just the reverse.
Inside, the place was well kept, but cramped and dismal.
The Squires held halogen lanterns up, illuminating the stark interior. There was a pallet on the floor with an old, worn-out pillow and a few threadbare blankets and furs. The television was set on the floor and the walls were lined with bookshelves. The only pieces of furniture in the house were two cupboards.
"Good Lord," Allen said. "He lives like an animal."
"No," Syra said as she walked over to the bookshelves to skim the titles. "He lives like a slave. For him, this would be a step up from what he was used to."
She met Jess's gaze. "You know the man?"
"Yeah and you're right." Jess had to duck out of the ceiling fan's way as he moved around the room. He remembered that Zarek was a full two inches taller than him.
"Damn," he said as he turned the fan blade with his finger and remembered another thing Zarek had once told him.
"What?" Bjorn asked.
Jess looked back at the Alaskan Hunter who was inspecting Zarek's pantry, which contained only a few cans of food and a ton of unopened vodka bottles. "How hot does it get up here in the summertime?"
Bjorn shrugged. "In the heart of the summer it can get in the high eighties and nineties. Why?"
Jess cursed again. "I remember talking to Zarek once. I asked him how he was doing. He said, 'Baking.' " Jess nodded at the small ceiling fan. "I just now realized what he meant. Can you imagine being trapped in this place in the dead of summer with no windows and no air-conditioning?"
Syra let out a low whistle. "We have round-the-clock sunshine. You're lucky if you can leave for more than ten minutes a day."
"What does he do for a bathroom?" Allen asked.
Syra indicated a small chamber pot in the left corner.
"How long has he been here?" she asked Jess. "Eight, nine hundred years?"
Jess nodded.
She let out a low whistle. "No wonder he's insane."
Allen scoffed. "With the money he gets paid, the idiot could have built himself a mansion."
"No," Jess said. "It's not his way. Trust me, when you're used to nothing, you expect nothing."
Syra walked over to the corner where a mountain of carved figurines were piled. "What are these?"
Jess frowned as he noticed the walls of the cabin and realized every single inch of them was covered with intricate carvings that matched the figurines.
Suddenly he recalled the wood sculptures he'd seen in the convenience store.
The ice sculptures he'd seen in town.
Poor Zarek must have gone loco time and again from boredom during the months he was confined to this tiny shed.
Hell, Jess had a bigger garage at home. "I would say it's Zarek's attempt to maintain a shred of sanity while he's locked away up here."