The next morning the snow began to fall heavily, with an awful certainty to it. It was hard to see far, because of the thickly falling flakes, which were piling up fast. I wasn't sure what time of day it was even. We were going to be in a world of hurt soon, if we didn't find shelter.

Deshavi tripped over something and fell sprawling into the snow. As Trent helped her up I kicked around in the snow curious to see what had tripped her. I found it and reaching down into the snow I felt at it and felt a glimmer of hope rise up in me, as my fingers traced the edges of where an axe had chopped off roughly an eight inch diameter tree.

Out here in the middle of nowhere to find such an occurrence meant someone had to be living close by. We were on a slight rise traveling along a forest edge. To our left was a dip. If someone was living out here they would most likely be located on the lower more sheltered ground. Carrying the cut wood downhill made sense to.

"Come on!" I said and the other two followed me blindly into the semi darkness of the falling snow.

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It wasn't really that hard to find the cabin or better put hillside dugout, even in the poor light. Cautiously I approached it. There was no light inside the dugout, but that didn't mean no one was home.

The door handle was a simple lever and rope latch design and I tripped it open. Kicking the door slightly it creaked open with enough protest to suggest that it hadn't been opened in a long time. Gun muzzle up I stepped inside and surveyed what I could see of the dark interior, which wasn't much. The atmosphere of the place was cold and lifeless.

I clicked on a small flashlight, whose batteries I had been saving, for just such a moment. The room was simple enough. There was a door at either end of it. I went to the one and peered inside. There was a single cot in the sparse room and on it was a skeleton. I guess that answered one question about the place.

Cautiously I studied the remains on the cot. It had been a few years and there was little left, but bone and tattered clothing fragments. The lower left leg bone was broken and two slat boards and some rope still lay in close proximity to the leg.

Out here by himself he'd broken his leg and tried to fix it himself. Weakened likely by infection he'd come in here and this is where he lay. It was a common enough story for people living alone in wild country. I left the room and went to the other side room. It really wasn't a room, but rather a mineshaft opening. That answered what he'd been doing here in this lonely place. He had likely been a summertime miner come to tap Siberia's rich mineral wealth, before the winter could set in. It hadn't worked out so well for him, but for us this place was a godsend. I went to the door and gestured Trent and Deshavi inside. There was no food, but there was firewood and a small stove. That was enough for now.




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