‘Halley! Halley?’ I can hear Björn calling my name. It suddenly shifts me from my frozen position.
‘Coming!’ I pull my hat and gloves and coat from the overhead line. Outside, the snowstorm seems to have passed. The new snow is thick and deep, like a giant feather duvet. My legs disappear into it with every huge step I take. I make it round to the back of the lavvu. The herd are spread out, shifting this way and that nervously. And there, under a tree is Björn, his beloved Lucas cradled in his arms, the snow around him stained red with what looks like blood. Nearby is the dead body of one of the reindeer.
‘Wolverine,’ Björn says by way of explanation. ‘Lucas was protecting his pack. It’s what we do, isn’t it? Try and be there for the ones we love, and feel useless if we’re not.’ He swallows. ‘We need to cover the body.’ He nods to the reindeer. ‘Can you get a plastic sheet from the sled?’
He doesn’t need to say any more. Once I’ve covered the dead animal with the plastic sheet, I turn to look at Björn and the dog in his arms. He shakes his head.
‘I need to get him to a vet. There’s one back in the village, where we came from.’
‘What can I do? Phone someone? Your sister? Egel?’
He looks up at me, his blue eyes tired and blinking. ‘There is something you can do.’
‘Name it,’ I say.
‘Could you stay here, with the herd? Alone, without me?’ He holds my gaze, knowing what he’s asking of me. I take a deep breath.
‘I can,’ I say. And I really can.
I tell Björn to stay where he is whilst I get the dogs and the sled ready. I harness up the dogs and put on their booties, then lay a reindeer skin on the sled, having unloaded some of the provisions into the lavvu to make room for Lucas. I even make a flask of pine tea to keep him warm.
Slowly he stands and lifts his injured dog in his arms and carries him through the deep snow towards the sled. The dogs are eager to go but they know something is wrong. Their leader isn’t there. He places Lucas carefully on the reindeer hide and pulls another hide over him.
‘He’s looked after me before now. It’s my turn to look after him,’ he says, and I nod.
‘And the wolverine?’ I ask shakily.
‘Dead. In the woods,’ he tells me.
‘The reindeer . . . will we bury it?’
‘No,’ he says softly. ‘We must respect the animal. For its life to have been worthwhile, we must respect it in death. We’ll take the carcass back to the farm.’
I swallow and look up at the huge sky to stop my eyes watering. I can see the clouds finally moving out and the dark sky clearing. And I realise that’s exactly how I’m feeling: like the clouds are finally parting and I’m seeing things properly. There are people and animals here that matter right now, that need me.
Björn stands on the back of the sled.
‘Thank you, Halley, for everything.’ He reaches out and touches my cheek. And more than anything right now I want to lean forward and kiss him and tell him to take care of himself and to come back to me safely.
‘I will be back, I promise,’ he says, as if reading my mind. But if I know anything now, it’s that we can’t make those promises; we can only hope. And I do hope as I watch the dogs and sled set off across the big white wilderness, getting smaller and smaller against the clearing sky, until I am finally alone. Well, me and a few hundred reindeer.
This is my vargtimmen, my Wolf-time, when I’m haunted by the fears that come with the long hours between nightfall and dawn. The time I hate most, when all my memories pile in. I need to keep moving to banish them, so I push back the door of the lavvu and stoke the fire. Despite it being cold, it’s clear and still now, and I want to be able to see the herd as they mill around in the trees, just in case anything happens. I think about Björn and Lucas and hope they get there in time, and that they’re safe and doing okay.
I’m missing Björn, and not just because I’m scared about what might be out there in the woods. I’m missing him being here next to me, like we were just before the attack. My thoughts jumble up like a tangled ball of wool and I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night before I’ve untangled them all. I look out at the big sky that seems to reach all the way to another world. More and more stars pop out and the sky darkens, but it’s not a threatening shade of black, more a beautiful dark inky blue. I take out what’s left of my little notepad, and it feels like I’m doing it for the very last time.