The Wild Read Free Page A

Only when he had stepped up onto the wood and kicked mud from his boots did he glance back to check on Shepard’s progress.
    The man had stopped a dozen feet back.
    â€œJames?” he said.
    Shepard’s face had gone slack and he stared eastward with wide eyes, bent slightly forward to manage the weight of his pack. He’d been pale before, but now he looked dreadfully sick. He blinked, coughed lightly, and then set off into a deeper fit of coughing that bent him double. The old soldier let his pack slip from his back and fall into the mud.
    Jack dropped his own pack on the boardwalk and ran to Shepard’s side.
    â€œWhat is it, James?” he asked, gripping the man’selbow. “You’re all right. Try to catch your breath.”
    Shepard was shaking, his skin hot, and blood freckled his lips and chin. He’d been ill almost ever since Jack had known him, but he had never seen the older man looking so frail.
    â€œJames?” he said again, softly.
    James nodded and took several long, steadying breaths. He stared to the east, wheezing and coughing some more, eyes watering the entire time. Still bent double, hands on his knees, he gestured with a nod.
    â€œIs that it, boy? Is that the pass?”
    Jack turned to see that the mist had thinned, providing a clearer view of the nearby hills. It might be August, but they were in Alaska, and to the east white walls of ice rose up from the land like the forbidding landscape in a dream of endless winter. The gap in the ice, visible only as a shadow from here, was the Chilkoot Pass. The trail that would take them to Dawson City began at the foot of those frozen cliffs.
    Even from this distance Jack could make out the dark line of men and horses trekking up the Chilkoot Trail toward the forbidding pass—men with dreams of gold, and the Tlingit Indians making their own fortunes just getting the stampeders and their gear over the mountains.
    Shepard started coughing again, and this time when he wiped at his lips, Jack saw a larger smear of blood.
    It did not bode well. Dark thoughts of resentment and frustration flitted at the edges of Jack’s mind, but he pushed them away. They had made a pact, the two of them, and Jack London always kept his word.
    He put a hand on Shepard’s shoulder. “I’ll help you every step of the way. I’ll get you there, so help me God, or else we’ll share an icy grave. And I don’t mean to die, so that means we’ll both have our stake on the Klondike come spring, and bring back a pile.”
    At last able to breathe evenly, Shepard gently pushed Jack’s hand away.
    â€œI’ve been a fool,” he said, words burning with a fury obviously reserved for himself. “I won’t allow you to become one.”
    â€œJames,” Jack said, “you’ve come all this way.”
    â€œYes, and now I have to go all that way.” He looked again at the pass, eyes wide. And even as he watched, Jack saw James’s expression change from fear to resignation to sorrow and regret.
    Shepard slowly stood upright. He shouldered his pack, taking deep breaths. And finally he turned his back on the frozen mountains.
    â€œI’ve got to get back to the beach before the Umatilla sails for home,” Shepard said. “I’ll bring your love to Eliza and your mother.”
    Jack said nothing. Shepard would clearly brook no argument.
    â€œI’ve invested a great deal in this journey,” the old soldier went on. “More than money, you understand? Every wish I’ve ever made. I’m leaving them all here with you, and I expect you to carry them to Dawson and beyond. Don’t let me down, boy.”
    Jack shook his head. “Of course I won’t.”
    â€œSee you don’t,” Shepard said. And with that he left, trudging back through half-frozen mud toward the shore, leaving Jack with all their supplies and equipment and enough determination for both of