Remmel Mountain looms up ahead of me as I steer my Jeep along the rocky terrain.

Not many people live out around here. There’s no ice thaw, just a permafrost under the ground. The wilderness is scraggly, craggy, barren. There are mainly evergreen forests around here, though not exactly thick and plentiful. There are a few lakes, natural little waterways that keep the wildlife fed, and some tourists like to climb to the top. There’s not much to see, to be totally honest, and that’s exactly why I live out here, in the middle of nowhere.

I don’t live on Remmel, not exactly. I live in a shadowy little alcove at the base of Remmel, off the beaten trail, well away from the normal tourist attractions. And those unusual tourists that do happen to come across my land typically don’t even realize my house is there. It’s an expensive, almost lush place on the inside, but the outside was carefully built to mimic the local surroundings as much as possible. It blends into the landscape from a distance, so it’s pretty easy to miss.

It cost a fortune, but it’s mine, along with the land surrounding it. My closest neighbor is an hour away, and if I ever need medical attention, they’d have to send a helicopter for me. It’s my fortress, my safe house, and my prison.

The closest town is a two-hour drive, and I only head in there when I absolutely need supplies. I was running low on gasoline, so I decided to grit my teeth and make the damn trip instead of bugging Shelly for some like I normally do. I’m well stocked up, enough to last me through the winter and more, even if the snows kill the electricity, which they almost always do.

I wind my way up my long, dirty driveway until my house comes into view. It’s more of a mansion made to look like a cabin that blends in with the surroundings. I pull around the side and park in a little garage built into the side of the house. I climb out of the truck and I hear Jones barking as he comes running down the ridge.

I smile to myself. Jones has the land to himself, mostly at least. He knows to stay away from the biggest animals, like the occasional bear, but otherwise I let him run around when he wants to. He’s never gone out of whistle-range before, so I let him do whatever he wants, as long as he comes back when I call.

“There you are,” I say as he scampers into the garage, throwing himself at my shins. I grin at him, scratching his butt and patting his side. “Missed you too, bud.”

He pants at me as I unload the Jeep. I carry the gas cans over into the little storage rack against the wall before heading inside. I take off my boots in the hallway and kick them aside.

My house slowly powers up as I walk into the main room. It’s all state of the art and motion-based smart technology. Somewhat beyond me, but pretty fucking fancy. I head into my kitchen and pour myself a drink, looking out across the great hall living room through the big windows that give me a great view of the valley and the lake at its center.

It’s the same view, day in and day out. It never changes, and that’s what I both love and hate about it. I’m here for a reason, I have to remind myself as I shoot back my whisky and pour another one. I’m here because I have to be.

I pad down into the living room and turn on the stereo. Steely Dan’s Aja starts playing and I let it run, turning it down slightly. I sit on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table as the fireplace under the television jumps to life suddenly.

I grab my laptop and flip it open. I quickly do a Google search for my own name, but nothing pops up. I frown a little bit. It’s been a month since I did that interview with Mia, although I didn’t give her all that much to write about. I told her to make it up if she wanted, and I haven’t heard anything since, so I assumed she was writing something.

Maybe not. Murray wasn’t happy with how I blew her off, which is fine. I get it. The whole profile was his idea, and while I didn’t agree with it, I made the damn trip anyway. I’m not sure why; maybe some misguided sense of loyalty to my father, although he’s been dead for a few years now.

I search for Mia’s name next, and I find a few recent things by her, just little puff pieces for Murray’s paper. She’s a good writer, and I can’t stop thinking about that night we spent together. It’s not because she’s the most recent woman I’ve been with, although that’s part of it. There aren’t exactly a ton of beautiful women out here ready to sleep with me.

I’ve had plenty of beautiful women in the past, but Mia, she was something special. I keep thinking about her, almost every night now, wondering why the hell I left in the morning. I was supposed to spend another day in the city, and I easily could have spent it all in bed with her. Instead, I ran away, leaving her that fucking note.

Well, nothing we can do about it now. I sigh and push my laptop aside. I stare at the fire for a second until I hear the screams again, and I’m forced to push some whisky down my throat, savoring the burn.

The screams are the reason I’m here, hiding out in the wilderness. They’re quieter out here, maybe because they don’t have to try and drown out a city. But I can still hear them anyway, the cries of men burning alive, the sounds that haunt me every single day of my life.

I finish my whisky and tear myself away from the fire. I don’t need to fall into a fucking pity fest. I hear Jones barking outside, so I go let him in. He curls up on the rug in the living room near the fireplace and I pour myself another drink, turning up the music to try and distract myself from the dark thoughts that always threaten to intrude into my life.

As I’m trying to decide what to make myself for dinner, my phone starts to ring. I head over and pick it up. My phone’s this big satellite thing. It doesn’t run on the normal cell network, but on a specific satellite that’s always up in the sky near here. It’s another expensive luxury, but this one’s actually necessary for survival.

I know who it is before I even answer. “Hi, Shelly,” I say, since she’s one of the handful of people that have this number.

“Hi, Ethan,” she says, her voice gravelly from years of smoking and yelling at her family.

“Missed you in town earlier.”

“Yeah, well, been busy. What brought you in?”

“Gas,” I say. “What else?”

“Could’ve got that for you,” she grumbles.

“That’s okay. It’s good to get out sometimes.”

“Can’t deny that.” She pauses a second. “Listen, I called about something strange.”

I narrow my eyes. “Strange how?”

“Someone’s asking for you back here.”

I take a sharp breath, and my pulse jumps in my neck. “Who?” I manage to say.

“Young girl. Really pretty. Dark hair, little wavy, pretty mouth. Looks lost as hell, poor little bird.”

I let out a breath. That’s not what I expected, not at all. “What’s her name?”

“Says it’s Mia,” Shelly says.

My eyes widen a little bit. What the hell, Mia? Why would she be out here?”

“What does she want?”

“She’s looking for you,” Shelly says, laughing. “But I told her not to bother. You don’t wanna be found, and plus, there’s a storm coming.”

I frown. “How bad?”

“Bad,” Shelly says, although she always says that. Still, a bad storm could mean I’m stuck up here for a week or more. Good thing I got that fucking gasoline.

I stare at the floor then out the window at the view that’s always the same. I can’t help but remember Mia that night, her body against mine, her moans hot in my ear.

“I’ll see her,” I blurt out, not sure why.

“You sure?” Shelly asks, surprised.

“I’m sure.”

“She might get stuck there.”

“I’ll see her,” I say again. “I’ll pay you, if you bring her up.”

“No need to fucking pay me, Ethan,” Shelly snaps at me. “Guess I’ll be seeing you soon.”

She hangs up the phone and I slowly lower mine back down onto the counter.

Mia is here, but I have no fucking clue why. She hasn’t gotten in touch, although she couldn’t do that even if she tried. I stupidly told her where I live, and she must have gone into the biggest town near Remmel Mountain, asking around if anyone heard of me. Thankfully Shelly’s there and found her, or else I don’t know what would happen.

Now she’s coming here, and I don’t know why. She came all the way across the country for this, so I can’t very well turn her away. Still, I fucking want to send her packing.

I’ll talk to her, and I’ll drive her back to town myself tonight if I have to. Letting her come up was a weakness, one I shouldn’t let myself indulge in.

I don’t deserve weakness, not anymore. I drink another whisky and stare out the window, not sure what’s coming for me.