Klondike’s Price
Copyright© 2026 by Heel
Chapter 9: Doomed in the Cabin
Vanessa lay on the cot, her body cocooned in blankets, her legs bound in splints that pressed against her bruised and broken limbs. Every small movement sent spikes of pain through her thighs and knees, and she had long since stopped trying. She was trapped, pinned to the bed, with nothing but the quiet ticking of time and the crackling of the fire to mark her days.
Bill sat near the hearth, hunched over slightly, checking the fire and tending the huskies outside. His presence had been a lifeline — the man who had set her broken bones, fed her, kept her warm, and offered a steadying hand and calm voice. She had depended on him more than she would ever admit, even though her own motives had been treacherous.
But that morning, everything changed. Bill shifted, a slight grimace crossing his face, and Vanessa caught the first glimpse of something wrong. His hand flew to his chest, clutching at it instinctively.
“Bill?” she whispered, her voice trembling, a lump forming in her throat.
He tried to answer, a faint smile tugging at his lips, but the words didn’t come. Instead, his body wavered, his knees buckling under him. He fell to the floor, a low, startled sound escaping him, and for a moment, Vanessa thought she could reach him — that she might somehow help him.
But her legs wouldn’t obey. She tried to shift, to crawl, to drag herself forward even a few inches, but the splints held her rigid. Pain lanced through her body as she strained uselessly, every movement only highlighting her helplessness.
“Bill ... hold on,” she croaked, tears spilling onto the blankets. Panic gripped her throat. “You can’t ... you can’t leave me here!”
His eyes met hers, wide with surprise, a faint trace of disbelief and pain lingering in them. There was no anger, no blame — only shock and exhaustion. She watched, frozen, as his hand fell from his chest, his body going still. The sound of his shallow breathing faded, and the warmth of life drained from him before her very eyes.
For a long moment, Vanessa could not move, could not breathe, could not think. The huskies whimpered at the doorway, sensing the absence of their master. The cabin was suddenly immense and hollow, echoing with emptiness. The fire sputtered weakly, casting long shadows that flickered over the walls like the ghosts of what had been.
Vanessa pressed her face into the blanket, the weight of reality crushing her chest. She was alone — completely and utterly alone. There was no one to bring her water, no one to feed her, no one to tend the fire or soothe the constant, gnawing pain in her legs. The gold pouch she had once coveted now lay useless beside her, a cruel reminder of all she had risked and the price she had paid.