When Regina and Amy first fell in love, they just wanted to live and love. It was about being with each other. No constant avoidance of stares if they should hold hands. They didn’t join in the Pride movement, because their love was about them, not about being part of a group.

Snow Creek wasn’t far from Seattle, but it took a ferry ride to get there. And don’t even think of finding their place without detailed directions. That’s the way they liked it. Sure, in the beginning, the pair made frequent trips back to the city. In time, however, they just stopped returning to their old home.

Their abdication of city life was complete.

They said their wedding vows under a mammoth cedar that they eventually cut down for the house they built. Friends still came over at that time, though not many. Some came with skills to help with the farm, others to remind them that they were giving up the city and all that Snow Creek had to offer for a drippy forest and a meandering creek.

“We like the drippy forest,” Amy told one of the doubters.

“Creek’s not too bad, either,” chimed Regina.

Their friends stopped coming after a couple of years, but the women didn’t mind. Especially Regina. She’d been the one to first broach the subject about living off in the wilds, and Amy considered it merely an adventure. Something they’d do only for awhile.

Awhile became forever.

As Regina continued her walk along the creek and then down through the woods, she paused for a beat. She thought she’d heard something. It was a familiar noise, but not one she’d heard in quite some time. It was the sound of traffic.

Two cars.

By Snow Creek standards it was beyond a traffic jam. Gridlock, really. Completely annoying too.

Regina looked up toward the noise, remembering that there had been a logging road in that vicinity at one time. She wondered if the loggers were scouting the area for another big green bite out of the hillside.

Please no.

She stood still. Like a deer. Her eyes scanning through a veil of evergreens. The wind picked up and the fringe of forest cover parted a little, though not enough to afford a better view. She moved a few steps closer.

Arguing.

What are they saying?

She couldn’t quite hear, yet fear gripped her anyway. Something bad. Something terrible was happening.

What are they fighting about?

Next, there was the sound of a car door slamming, then another, and branches snapping and, finally, a loud whoosh as something rolled from the road down into the ravine.

A beat later, flames shot upward into the soggy sky.

Adrenalin surged through Regina’s thin frame, jolting her, playing on her bones like some kind of macabre xylophone. She put her hand to her lips as though she needed to stifle a scream.