Christmas Under Fire. Michelle Karl

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       ONE

      Cally Roslin stepped out of the small airplane and shivered as a blast of icy northern wind cut through the dampness in the air. It seemed to slice into her heavy winter coat and snow pants and cling to her skin like a layer of frost. She’d experienced a Canadian winter before, but the late December temperatures in Toronto had felt nothing like this introduction to the climate of northern British Columbia. It made her miss the dry warmth of her homeland, the Kingdom of Amar. She clutched the edges of her puffy jacket’s hood around her face to keep her cheeks from taking the full brunt of the cold and gripped the railing with her other hand. The thick glove she wore squished against the metal, and she had to squint to keep her eyes open as she descended the metal staircase to the tarmac.

      She sighed in relief as she reached the bottom step. An attendant wearing an airport ID badge quickly ushered her inside the main building—which was the only building for passengers, as far as she could see. Cally had checked out the website for the Rocky North Regional Airport before boarding the tiny aircraft in Vancouver for the second leg of her journey, and so she’d expected the rural, unsecured facility to be small and sparse. But she hadn’t realized how sparse until seeing it with her own eyes.

      The terminal consisted of one open concourse with a few benches, vending machines, workstations and two side rooms marked as Gate One and Gate Two. The waiting areas for these looked about as large and exciting as her dentist’s office—which was to say, not at all. She saw no other passengers and only one other attendant working behind a service desk. At least the place was clean and warm, with bright lighting to counterbalance the diminishing daylight outside and a selection of garish Christmas decorations to celebrate the season. Despite only being around four o’clock in the afternoon, the sun looked ready to call it quits for the day.

       Cold, dark and a little lonely. It’s what I wanted, isn’t it?

      Cally scanned the room a second time. In an email exchange, her local friend, Ellen, whose wedding Cally had used as an excuse to get away from her life in Amar for a little while, had mentioned that a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer would be arriving to chauffeur her to a rental cabin in Fort Mason. The cozy place was to be her home СКАЧАТЬ