You know, there was a woman once, Ray. We were uh . . .
I don't know what we were. In the end I tracked her up above
the 62nd parallel into a place called Fortitude Pass. A
storm had been blowing for days, the whole world was white.
By the time I found her, I'd lost everything, my packs, my
supplies, everything. And she was huddled in the lea side
of a mountain crag. She was almost frozen, very near death, and
so I staked a lean-to and draped my coat across it, drew
her inside and I covered her body with mine and I just held her,
while the storm closed around us like a blanket, until all I
could hear was the sound of her heartbeat, weakening.
I forced her to speak to me, just talk to me, say anything
to keep the cold from taking her.
And it snowed for a day, and a night, and a day.
I was delirious, I almost gave up. The only thing I had to
hold onto was the sound of her voice, which never wavered. She
recited a poem. You know the funny thing? I must have heard that
poem a thousand times that night, but I never heard the words.
It ended... badly.
She had a... she had a darkness inside her... and the most
beautiful voice. The most beautiful voice you ever
heard.
The only woman Fraser ever loved, Victoria was the wheelman in a bank robbery in Alaska. Fraser had a choice; turn her in, or let her go. he made the latter, and was never able to forgive himself, nor was Victoria. Torn between love and hatred, she attempted to destroy Fraser's life both to punish him, and to give him no choice but to go with her. She almost succeeded.
You know, there was a woman once, Ray. We were uh . . .