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“Damn it!” Ben hissed with fury as he looked down at the wolves. “If they come up here, we’ll be cornered.”
The Southerner was right. As if his worried statement reached their ears, two wolves began to make their way up the hill from both sides. While the ones down below were growling and tensing up, the two lurkers were concerningly silent and approached with slow steps.
Noticing their attempt, Ben slowly crouched down to free himself of the hunted deer and take his rifle in his hand. He stepped closer to Cliff with his gun lowered, who stood motionless with his deer on his back, still deep in thought.
“Are you planning to shoot?” Cliff asked while he kept his eyes on the wolves.
“Like hell, I ain’t.” Ben scoffed. “Shootin’ at them on the spot would lessen our chance to keep the upper hand. But in any case, we’ll have to protect what’s left for us, for the others.” He explained as his grip tightened on the rifle with determination.
Cliff then darted his gaze to the side, where one of the wolves stood with its legs spread and tail bristled. The animal snarled at the outlaw’s movement, yet it remained in its place and didn’t attack. Compared to the wolf Ben had to keep his eyes on, which growled louder and tried to get its way by running closer to scare the Southerner, the one before Cliff was just as contemplative as him.
If only one of them could hold a rifle like that for long to watch the other’s back, they would have a chance to protect themselves and even flee from the pack. Cliff raised his brows at the line of thought.
The wolves’ prey wasn’t them. Perhaps it never has been. Ribs nearly sticking out under their fur and muzzles licked with impatience, the wolves had no concern for anything but the scent of blood dripping from the deer. Considering their state, a fight with two men could’ve only gotten in their way.
“We need to drop a deer,” he turned to the Southerner.
“No, a proper plan is what we need!”
“I’m sure you’ve heard of the term ‘element of surprise’. Now this will be exactly that.”
“Cliff, do not!” Ben warned. “This is our only chance to-”
But it was too late, as Cliff decided to let go of his deer and threw it down where the rest of the pack was waiting.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” Ben burst out, to which the wolf close to him threw itself at the Southerner, making the latter unintentionally shoot in the air while he tried to kick the animal out of the deer’s way. Hell broke loose even more as both wolves were agitated enough to attack the outlaws, reducing the number of opportunities to take from the men’s end.
“We have to go, Ben, now!” Cliff urged while he struggled to hold Ben back, who wanted to give his all to retrieve their prey. “They’re busy enough to let us run!”
“They’re ours, God damnit, we hunted them!” Ben exclaimed as he elbowed the older man in the ribs. “We need to survive!”
Adding to the younger man’s furious despair, the two wolves gathered around the carcass and protected it by baring their teeth at the outlaws.
“Let them be, for fuck’s sake! You want to share a meal with them?!”
Despite his retorts and curses thrown at the older man, Cliff dragged the Southerner away from the remaining deer, ready to make a run for it toward the trees.
The snow had a much bearable height in the woods that reached only their ankles, and by the time they got to the other end of the tree line, they lost sight of the pack, and the same applied to the danger they brought.
Cliff leaned against a tree as he tried to regain his breath, while Ben lost his balance and fell to the ground and stayed there, wheezing and clenching his fists around the snow beside his dropped rifle. Their lungs were burning as they sucked in the cold air, which they had to endure besides losing their food.
“You holding up there, Whitman?” Cliff stepped closer to check up on the Southerner.
“I would be,” the Southerner began as he got up, rejecting Cliff’s hand, “if you haven’t just left all our food to the wolves!”
“What choice did we have?”
“A whole fucking lot if you waited for my call! We needed to remain calm and protect what we had left in this godforsaken place!”
“Was your dense ass thinking that they would patiently wait until we would’ve thought a solution out?” Cliff grabbed the Southerner by his coat to shake sense into him, as apparently, something froze within the younger man that could provide clear thinking. “They were to chase us until we couldn’t run, you bastard! You’re the hunter, aren’t you?!”
“I am!” Ben shoved the older man away to free himself from the grasp. “And I’ve been trying to be one all day and get something that would keep us fed until you ruined it all! I had it under control, Cliff! I told you to leave it to me!”
“Last time I left it to you, you almost got mauled by a bear! Have you got no concern for yourself? Tell me one scenario where we would’ve gotten out with two deer and no wolves on our tail. Don’t forget the wounds they would’ve left on us were we to shoot at them. Wounds we would have no damn medicine to treat!”
“Then help me think of a scenario where we don’t starve to death ‘cause the move we just made here might cost three other men’s lives!” The Southerner frowned while a gust of freezing wind hit them from the side, interrupting their argument in the meantime.
The weather worsened while they were blinded by fury, now making both outlaws realize that perhaps the time for jumping at each other’s throats wasn’t the fittest out in the cold, with the sun’s location hidden in the grey, overcast sky and no clear route before them.
“Fuck, this is bad,” Ben stated, his fury slightly fading into worry. “This wind will make our tracks disappear faster than we’ll find them if we don’t hurry.”
“No shit,” Cliff adjusted his hat as he caught up to the Southerner, who already began to walk towards the mountains.
The walk through the valley, untouched by the creatures roaming the wilderness, was spent in silence, as much as the snow’s crunching under their boots let it. The Southerner led the way, determined to find the tracks they left a few hours ago.
Cliff was cursing the former decision of his companion that made them leave their horses in the barn since they wouldn’t have had all the trouble of walking miles in search of food and now their way back to camp. Ignoring the older man’s complaining, Ben kept on walking with his jaw clenched.
While the pace of their steps remained consistent, Cliff noticed how the Southerner began to keep his gaze on the ground before him more and more with time. He knew Ben couldn’t have trouble with hours of marching, considering how he did so plenty of times back in the army, let alone the war, but given the circumstances, the freezing air of the northern mountains could’ve been taking its toll on him.
After they arrive at camp, they’ll have to organize their remaining provisions, Cliff reminded himself. They have enough for about two or three days if each of them sticks to the daily dose. But no matter the case, they’ll have to find another place to stay, preferably much warmer than the abandoned cabins they huddled in now.
Amidst his pondering, he almost bumped into the Southerner, who stopped abruptly out of a sudden. Cliff swore in surprise and was about to ask what in the world Ben was doing, but then he saw the younger man’s face.
Ben stood with reddened cheeks and a dumbfounded expression in the howling wind, staring at a patch of woodland a few meters before them.
“Ain’t that the woods we came from?”
“Congratulations, soldier.” Cliff sneered and clapped his hands together. “We’ve been walking for half the day for nothing. We’ll have time to make up for all that’s been wasted, won’t we?”
“We just have to keep on going,” The Southerner muttered as he turned back and nudged Cliff to do the same, who only shook his head in disapproval.
“Surely, we’ve been doing that for quite a while that it became monotonous.”
“Y’know what, if you wanna do something that bores you less than walking, you might as well go n’ fuck yourself.”
“We’ll get back to it at camp. Make sure to remind me about that one.”
And with that, another 30 minutes were spent trudging in the snow. While both outlaws were silently fuming, their will to keep on going slowly began to leave them. Cliff eventually took the lead as they climbed up the road at the mountain’s side, yet he kept glancing behind his back, assuring himself that the Southerner could keep up with him.
“We’ll have to find shelter unless we want a snow shower from above!” He stated as he turned to Ben again, who tried to pull his scarf up to his nose while he walked closer.
“Agreed.” The Southerner stood close to Cliff, then pointed towards a boulder they could faintly see in the thickening fog. “Let’s reach that one!”
And thus, the outlaws helped each other up the hill until they found a shallow cave, providing a last means of shelter for freezing beings. The worn-out men undeniably met the criteria, and since the weather wasn't calming down, this was their best chance to secure themselves. Arriving at the cave’s entrance, they dropped their hunting equipment to release the tension from their sore muscles and began to make their shelter safe and as comfortable as possible.
Luckily enough, the inside of the cave had a dry ground to sit on, and upon noticing it, Cliff didn’t hesitate to plop down with a sigh. Rubbing his temples, he watched the Southerner gathering frozen branches and sticks along with some tinder to light a fire out of their pile.
“There’s no use, boy,” Cliff grumbled as he rested his chin in his hand. “They’re already wet.”
“Do I look like I give a damn?” Ben frowned at him as he put some birch bark on the foundation of the fire stack along with smaller twigs. He then placed the rest of the branches before taking a lighting match in his trembling hands.
The sight before Cliff could’ve even been called pitiful. A man who’s trying to do no matter what to survive, even in dire straits such as the one they were in at that moment. Cliff’s face dropped as he looked at the Southerner’s stubborn expression, realizing the contrast between their mentalities.
A part of himself had given up long ago, and now that sour feeling grew within him to the point it reached his heart. Perhaps that was why he could let go of that deer in such a careless manner. Compared to him, Ben could’ve kept all his determination to protect a hunted animal from wolves or light a fire out of frozen branches even if he was rid of his strength to stand for long. A man who had been told to shoot himself if the enemy caught him gazing upon another who’d been told to serve a cause until his last breath.
“What did they do in the army to make you have all this willpower?” Cliff asked with a lowered voice.
The Southerner froze at the words, and his surprised gaze met the older man’s.
“It wasn’t the army,” he then replied, “but those I swore to protect.”
Despite his trembling and stiff posture, the Southerner spoke calmly. He said as if his words comforted him with a last glimpse of hope their situation could allow. Hearing it from another person, Cliff would’ve thought words as such would’ve been pretentious or simply dishonest, but coming from Ben, that could hardly be said. Given the circumstances, their hours, their actions, and their words… all of them were numbered. Ben was aware of that just the same as him, yet, he found peace in thinking about his loved ones or anyone he might’ve referred to with his statement.
Without a reply, Cliff opened his satchel, trying to find something useful for them to keep their remaining energy. His fingers met a cold metal can within. It was a can of peaches he’d found back at the barn, in a chest tucked behind frozen stacks of hay. He glanced back at the Southerner in silence, who just sneezed into the crook of his arm and was now gazing upon the wilderness, deep in his thoughts.
The blizzard reached the mountains in the meantime, making the valley they came from disappear before their eyes. The wind mercilessly tore at the trees even on the hill’s lee side, while more and more routes were blocked by the newly gathered snow. With that, all their chances of reuniting with the gang were gone for the night. Cliff could see the dawning realization in the Southerner’s eyes.
“Hey.” Cliff stood up and dragged the younger man away from the unpleasant thought. “I have this can of fruit. We’ll be able to share it once it’s melted.”
He sat down beside the Southerner and placed the can between them. Ben only watched in contemplation as the older man opened the can’s frozen lid with his knife and put it near the burning branches.
In no time, their humble meal was ready. Cliff handed the warmed-up can to the Southerner, yet the latter only shook his head and refused.
“It’s all yours, Cliff. I ain’t hungry.”
“This is not the time for jokes, Whitman. Eat it.” Cliff demanded.
“I told you-”
“I said eat it. You're gonna regret it in an hour.”
With an exhausted sigh, the Southerner mumbled something under his breath before he gave in and took the can. He carefully drank it, noticeably paying attention to the amount he consumed. Cliff would’ve preferred him down the whole thing since he deserved it more than anyone in the gang for hunting all the time, but he accepted the Southerner’s offer when he gave the remaining half of the food back.
Minutes passed, followed by hours, and the fire grew weaker, shrinking under the charred pieces of wood that faintly lit the cave’s walls. To keep themselves dry for the rest of the night, the two outlaws slid closer and closer to a corner where the heat was the most caught. Their shoulders and thighs were pressed against each other now, and their shared frustration began to dissolve, changing into a silent craving for connection and warmth.
Ben found it hard to keep his eyes open while Cliff constantly called his name, to which the Southerner jumped a little and excused himself as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
“Let me help,” Cliff then reached for the Southerner’s hands and took them in his. The younger man double-blinked as he glanced down at their now clasped fingers.
“It may be peculiar, but they’ll stay warmer if we keep them close like this.” The older man explained while he rubbed Ben’s hands together in his grasp, then held them tightly.
“Whenever the temperature dropped back at the fort, we used to… warm each other up this way,” Ben trailed off while he looked at Cliff. He was focused on the snowflakes stuck to the older man’s mustache, contemplating the newfound urge to inform Cliff about it or caress them off himself.
“Oh yeah?” Cliff huffed lightly in amusement, looking up from his work. “Were there any further ways?”
The Southerner put his hands on Cliff’s chest, then his arms, and now it was Cliff’s turn to raise his brows. Only then did he truly feel how close they were sitting to each other. The proximity made his cheeks flush, which the Southerner couldn’t catch as the cold was already burning them.
“We used to… caress each other’s arms ‘n… hold each other,” Ben demonstrated by gently squeezing Cliff’s forearms, then changing between loosening and tightening his grip on the limbs as his hands traveled up to the older man’s shoulders. “It would keep the heat between us for a while.
With a hard swallow, Cliff took hold of the Southerner’s shoulders too and began to help him with similar caresses.
“Better?” Cliff asked softly, getting a shaky but determined nod as a reply.
However, looking at the Southerner’s trembling lips made something in Cliff turn as they went on. It has been at the back of his mind ever since they realized they wouldn’t be able to reach camp anytime soon. It was none other than the thought that this night could be their last on this Earth.
The weight of it on Cliff’s heart was bothering him all too much.
He eventually wrapped his arms around Ben, whose shoulders slumped at once in the older man’s embrace, followed by a shaky sigh. Cliff felt the Southerner’s trembling in all its concerning intensity now, which urged him to caress the younger man’s back. Ben leaned his forehead on Cliff’s shoulder, mumbling about how they’ll share his portion too, once they get back to camp. The older man smiled as he heard the Southerner’s plan, finding it both amusing and bittersweet.
Sliding his hand to Ben’s shoulder, Cliff buried his face in the crook of the Southerner’s neck. A faint sound of surprise could be heard as the younger man shivered, which turned into sighs as Cliff blew under Ben’s scarf to make it warmer.
Lost in the fog of his memories, he found himself in that hotel room again, sitting on the double bed with the Southerner. It was the first time they talked so freely, carelessly, and not thinking about the world around them for a while, let alone the concept of time. It was the last time they had been so close. The last time they shared warmth under the blanket while they listened to the drumming of raindrops from the roof above their heads.
Under the influence of his longing feelings that came to surface, Cliff abandoned his thoughts and kissed the Southerner’s neck. Touching the warm skin with his lips, the older man involuntarily closed his eyes. He was doing something no one had before. Did Ben sigh under the touch of anyone else as he did then? Or did his shivers, the blood throbbing in his veins, the faint strength from his tightened grip on the shoulders… was it all made for Cliff?
He had nothing to fear at that moment.
“I want to warm you up more thoroughly.” He said as he pulled away from the Southerner a little. “Will you allow me?”
Ben only gave a drowsy, barely noticeable nod and closed his eyes before Cliff leaned in to press a chaste kiss on the Southerner’s bottom lip. Cliff expected the warmth and shivering, yet he wasn’t prepared for the softness that came along with it. Truth be told, he’d never kissed a man before, let alone one from his gang. It might’ve been the can of fruit they shared, or perhaps Ben himself, but something about it was sweet in itself. He had to taste it once more.
Gently cradling his face and raking his fingers through the younger man’s hair, he kissed Ben again, now with more tenderness, to which the Southerner let out a weak groan and wrapped his arms around the older man’s waist. The touch made a pleasant shiver run through him, all so sudden yet warmer than anything he felt in a while.
At that point, neither of the two outlaws cared what their rational sides would have dictated, as their need to survive was now more vital than ever. If they were to die tonight, they should’ve at least died while trying everything they could. They gave in to their senses, furrowing their brows and continuing to caress each other’s backs and arms.
“Cliff…” the Southerner gasped into his mouth before their lips met in a warm kiss again. “Cliff…”
Cliff pulled Ben even closer, as the newfound sensation made both of them equally desperate for staying that way just for a while longer. The roaming of Ben’s hands on his chest, his arms, and his shoulders that kept Cliff warm until then turned into clutching, as the Southerner leaned in and got lost in the kiss while he held onto the fabric of the older man’s coat.
“Cliff…” he heard Ben again as they pulled away by an inch, both shivering from the cold around them and all the feelings taking form in the closeness of their hearts. “W-We’ll…”
“We’ll get out of here… I promise,” Cliff assured him as he cupped the Southerner’s face in his hands, caressing the younger man’s cheeks to keep him focused and awake.
Ben hugged the older man tight before he sank lower to rest his head on Cliff’s chest, holding onto the latter one’s arm while he pulled the Southerner closer.
“You know, I… wanted to do this for a while now,” Cliff began after a few minutes of silence.
“Kissin’ someone?” Ben mumbled absentmindedly.
“Kissing you. You made me wonder.”
“I ain’t sure what you mean by that.”
“I ain’t quite sure myself. You were… someone new in our lot. Not by the lone fact you just got in the gang back then. You seemed to be tensed up by things others wouldn’t necessarily have.” Cliff pondered while he caressed the Southerner’s back in gentle circles, with his hand eventually resting on the nape of the younger man’s neck. “You looked like someone who needed a kiss, that’s all. The way you’d always bite your lip when something was weighing on your heart.”
“It more likely would’ve made you tense up even more if I pulled you in for a kiss, though.” Cliff chuckled tiredly at his thoughts. “But perhaps it would’ve helped too.”
If only he’d known how easily it could’ve been resolved.
Hearing all those delicate words, Ben hid his face in Cliff’s coat, trying to hold back the tears which couldn’t gather in the cold.
“I’m sorry, Cliff… I couldn’t…”
“You shouldn’t be. None of that matters for now.”
Another hour passed, and while Cliff could bear the cold relatively well thanks to his coat, trembling, and overall conscious presence, the same couldn’t have been said about Ben in his arms. Knowing that the situation was nudging the Southerner towards freezing, the older man tried his best to keep his companion awake, stimulating him with caresses and constant squeezes of the arms as he stuck to the method Ben showed him.
“Stay with me, boy.” Cliff nudged the barely conscious Southerner while he found it hard to keep his arms moving. “Jack will have my head if you freeze on us.”
But the younger man was drained of his leftover strength. Despite that, he kept his eyes open and listened to Cliff talking about anything that came to mind. The gang’s infamous robberies from the times Ben wasn’t running with them, the recent story he read about a woman who wore the scarlet letter “A” on her chest for punishment, and how they’ll join the others soon.
With the wind calming down and the freezing pain that came along with it easing off, Ben stopped shivering for good. Cliff called out to him again, but apart from faintly blinking as the older man caressed his cheek, the Southerner didn’t respond. Not even his incoherent mumbling could be heard, which concerned Cliff even more.
He pulled Ben’s scarf up to cover the younger man’s mouth and nose, trying to do the same with his ears so they wouldn’t suffer any more damage. Then, he set himself into a more comfortable position as he leaned against the boulder’s wall, dragging his arms to wrap them around the Southerner’s waist and back.
“So this is it, huh…” he let out a weary sigh as he gazed at the mountains. The snowfall’s sight and the quiet breathing of the Southerner in his arms eased Cliff’s mind. He found himself glad, even honored, that he could witness such a tranquil time of the night before Death lulls him to sleep.
“I hope wherever you’re dreaming to be right now is warmer than here.” He looked down at Ben with a weak smile. “Are you down there in Tennessee already?”
The silence that followed hurt more than any word spat at him in his life.
Caressing the Southerner’s back one last time, Cliff tilted his head forward to rest it on Ben’s.
“...Cliff?” he heard the Southerner’s voice from afar. “CLIFF!”
Cliff woke up with an exhausted frown. The first thing he saw was the wooden ceiling of their camp’s cabin, which was the last sight he expected after becoming comfortable with the thought of freezing up in the mountains. Instead, he was lying in the old bed, under the warmth of at least two blankets the others gathered from the neighboring room.
Now he had to get used to the unpleasant tingling on his limbs that felt like hundreds of nails trying to prickle his skin.
What bothered the sore outlaw most of all was the snoring of Tony, who decided to sit beside the bed and doze off. He found Ben sleeping on the outlaw’s side, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. All so close to Cliff, the Southerner was resting his head on his arms as he leaned on the bed, with their hands only inches apart.
Cliff reached for the Southerner to gently run his fingers through the latter’s hair, who turned his face in his sleep at the touch. The older man slowly slid his hand to cup Ben’s cheek and caressed it with his thumb. His sudden curiosity made him test the waters to see how deep the Southerner was sleeping.
It wasn’t hard to find out. Ben kept sleeping like a log, even with Cliff’s hand touching his face, which he seemed to mistake for the warmth of a pillow. The Southerner’s peaceful expression and steady breathing distracted Cliff from his worries.
“I see you’re awake.” Cliff flicked his hand away from Ben in an instant as he heard the sudden voice.
“What the f- when did you get here?!” his gaze snapped at Jack, who’d been sitting on the chair by the other side of the bed until now, without the second-in-command’s awareness.
“When?” Jack looked at him with a confused squint of his eye. “I’ve been here for at least an hour! I simply didn’t want to disturb you in… caressing Ben?”
“I checked his temperature, Jack, on God.” Cliff gave a worn-out scoff and looked away from the leader as he sat up in bed. “Last time I was awake, he was on his way to freeze.”
“Believe it or not, he kept telling me the same thing when we brought you two back to camp. He wasn’t in the best shape either, yet he insisted you’d get help above all. He then spent most of his time watching over your sleep in case you had a fever.”
Listening to Jack’s explanation, Cliff glanced back at the Southerner. He could only imagine Ben relentlessly trying to assist the others, ignoring how he needed warmth and a place to rest just as much as Cliff did.
“How are you feeling, by the way?” Jack stood up in the meantime to check his temperature. The leader’s expression softened after confirming his friend’s improved condition.
“Certainly better than I used to out there. Did anything happen here that I should know of?”
“Well, Colm and Tony found the wreckage of a wagon while you two were away. One of the wheels of it is still intact, so we can repair ours with it.”
“Now that’s news I like to hear.” Cliff nodded in approval. “We’ll be able to set out then, right?”
“If all goes well, I see nothing to stand in our way apart from another blizzard. But before we plan all that out, get some more rest.” Jack said as he put an assuring hand on Cliff’s shoulder before he walked towards the door. “I’ll go check on Colm.”
“And Cliff.” Jack turned back to the latter as he held the door’s handle. “I’m glad you made it out.”
Even after the door closed behind the leader, Cliff’s eyes lingered there for a while.
It was true, he made it out after all. They both did. Yet, he had to take his time to comprehend and let all the ice around his memories melt. He was well aware of what happened between him and Ben that night, yet, he wasn’t sure how the Southerner felt about their actions. By any means, it was up to them to draw a line.
The line between what they brought back and what they left in the snow.