by Denise Gwen
“Oh, things are getting worser and worser,” she muttered.
“No worries, my love.” Jake reached into the knapsack and removed . . . a bullhorn. “You looking for this, my dear?”
“Um, in a word, yes.” She grabbed the bullhorn and flicked the switch. The effect was immediate. The bullhorn brayed into the wilderness. The grizzly bear lost his cookies, or whatever it was that grizzly bears lose when bullhorns went off in their vicinity. He turned tail and disappeared into the woods.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“Good work, young lady. Now, let’s call for help.” He fiddled with the dials, adjusted a few knobs, then, when a faint whine emanated from the satellite, pushed another button and spoke into the microphone. “Hello, this is Jake Roundtree, a physician’s assistant at the Tlingit Reservation in Hoonah, Alaska, and I’m here with Dr. Sarah O’Reilly, a doctor from that same hospital, over.”
Is it my imagination, or did he put a special emphasis on the words physician’s assistant?
No matter.
She sat on her hands in an agony of anticipation. She was dying to snatch the machine away from him and start jabbering into it. She also highly doubted anybody at the com center cared who they were or what their credentials were, but let Jake natter away, if that’s what he wanted to do.
Then again, he was starting to sound mighty loopy. Would they even take him seriously?
“We, ah, um, well, let’s see, we sustained a helicopter crash, at I’d say, around seventeen-hundred hours, and, ah, unfortunately, it appears as if I’ve broken my left femur in the crash, but Doctor O’Reilly and I are still alive and well, although there’s a wee problem with a grizzly sighting, and it also appears, ah, as if I’ve succeeded in breaking my darn leg. My left leg, that is.”
Sarah laughed silently. Oh, this was insanity, pure and simple.
“Over,” Jake added, as an afterthought.
Some scratching on the other end, then a voice came out over the satellite. “We heard your distress call, over.”
“Thank you, what a relief to hear another human voice, over.”
“Give us your coordinates, over.”
“Hm,” Jake mused, looking at her.
She rummaged around in the knapsack until her fingers curled around a circular object, with textured metal on the back side, and pulled out the compass. She handed it to Jake, then pulled a notebook and a pen out of her backpack and sat at the ready to jot down the numbers as needed.
Jake read the coordinates into the microphone, and the speaker on the other side said that he’d gotten their coordinates just fine, and then he said something that made the short hairs on the back of Sarah’s neck prickle up with terror.
“You two are a lot further north than we realized, over.”
“Yeah, I figured on that.”
“At first, we thought we might be able to get to you right away, but it may be nightfall before we can reach you, over.”
“Well,” Jake said in a laconic voice, “it’s nightfall, already, really.”
“Yes, and I understand how that’s a concern for you, over.”
“Well, sure,” Jake said calmly. “Cause, you know, there’s a grizzly nearby. Over.”
A brief silence, then, “Are you safe, over.”
“We’re safe enough,” he said lightly, smiling up at her from over the microphone. “Over.”
“Well, good. Help is on the way, help is most definitely on the way, but you two would be wise to find some shelter, over.”
“Wise words,” Jake said, “over.”
And then it crackled and went silent.
Jake let the handheld device slip from his fingers and Sarah quickly grabbed it up and stuffed both it, the satellite device, and the bullhorn, back into the knapsack. “What the hell do we do now?” she asked, trying, and failing, to control the terror in her voice.
“Come here,” Jake said, reaching out for her with his arms spread wide, and at first she didn’t understand what he was doing, but when it registered, at first, she thought, don’t be ridiculous, we need to find safety, and then she considered it some more, and realized that she really did need some comforting, right this minute, and she collapsed into his arms and started sobbing. What the hell was the matter with her? She was out here in the wilderness, in dropping temperatures, with a man with a broken leg, who may be going into shock, and a hungry grizzly waiting in the woods, hoping for them to collapse or simply die or fail to outrun it, so that it could get down to the business of eating them.
What could possibly go wrong?
She sobbed and sobbed and then she started laughing.
“I know,” Jake said, snuggling his face next to hers. “This is nuts, right?”
And then, as if she needed reminding of his regard for her, he bent his head down and kissed her.
Sarah was freaking out, this he knew, and he was scared, too, but he wasn’t about to show it, not in front of her, not with her staring at the forest every five minutes, apparently expecting a herd of grizzlies to come stampeding out of the woods, heading straight for them.
But the grizzlies really were an issue, because Jake knew something about the grizzles that Sarah didn’t.
It’d been an unseasonably dry season last summer, in a state renowned for its rainfall, for bitter cold, for grassy meadows, for lakes and streams and rivers full of fish and lots and lots of room for fishermen to fish alongside the bears without there being any trouble, there wasn’t much precipitation.
It’d been a dry summer, followed by an even dryer winter, and there wasn’t much game. Many streams had run dry, and the bears were hungry. So hungry, in fact, that some of the mountain grizzlies had come down the mountain in search of food, and that wasn’t a good thing, not a good thing at all. That meant the bears up in the mountains were hungry enough that they’d trekked down the mountain in search of food, and he had a funny feeling the grizzlies probably thought the pickings looked pretty good down here, at this particular crash site.
Jake didn’t share any of these fears with Sarah. He was feeling anxious enough for them both. That grizzly she saw hovering out in the distance out near the woods might’ve been put off by a little bit of noise in daylight, but come nightfall, well, it’d be a whole different matter.
How best to broach the subject without getting her unbelievably frightened?
Then it hit him.
“You know something,” he said, putting as much of an impromptu spin on it, as if it’d just occurred to him. “There’s always a cabin or some kind of shelter off in the woods or close by the lake somewhere. I’d be willing to bet you, if we found one, we’d be able to take shelter inside, and wait for help to arrive.”
She gazed into the woods, her forehead furrowed. “I don’t want to go into the woods by myself.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll come with you.”
“With a broken leg?” she scoffed. “Hardly.”
“I’m not letting you wander into that woods alone. We’ll pack up everything we need and find a cabin in the woods.”
“And then Hansel and Gretel will come along and fetch us back?” she asked, and, despite her attempts to remain scornful, a sly smile started tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Good,” he said. “I’ve got you smiling again.”
“Only because you’re being ridiculous.”
“Don’t call me ridiculous, Doctor Sarah.”
“Don’t call me Doctor Sarah, Doctor Roundtree.”
“Doctor Roundtree? Since when did I get promoted?”
“Ever since we crashed in this remote site in the wilderness.”
“Ah,” he said, and laughed, but a sudden twinge of pain distracted him. Instantly, the smile faded from her face and she gazed at him with concern. “You’re in pain.”
“No, no, no, I’m fine. Look, if we’re gonna find a campsite, we’d better get moving.”
“The pain’s coming back,” she said, “and y
ou may be in shock.”
“Young lady,” he said sharply. “Do as I say, now.”
She gulped and nodded.
“It’s okay,” he said, more gently. “But we need to get moving.”
Chapter 10
She studied the woods, yearning to see some sign of movement to let her know the grizzly was gone, but her eyes betrayed her, and her heart leaped with terror at movements in every leaf, every twig.
“Jake,” she said uneasily. “I’m not so sure about this. I’m starting to think we should’ve stayed near the helicopter?”
“Not a good idea,” he said, shaking his head.
“Why not?”
“We’ll be exposed to the elements if we stay out in the open.”
“I know, but what if they come looking for us and we’re deep in the woods?”
“They don’t think they can collect us before nightfall.”
It took her a moment to absorb his words.
“You mean, we’re spending the night out here, in the Alaskan wilderness?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said, gently.
“It’s getting dark.”
“I know, honey, I know, and I’ll get you out of this mess, I promise you.”
“Okay,” she said. Then it hit her. He needed more pain medication. “Are you in pain? Do you need more pain treatment?”
“If I take any more pain treatment, I won’t be able to stay awake, and you need me to be conscious to help you through this.”
“Okay,” she said, uncertainly.
“Come on,” he said, lifting his arm. “Help this old man stand up.”
“Um, okay.”
“Hold on a sec,” he said. “First, let’s put together everything we’re going to need. Here’s the knapsack, let’s stuff it with provisions.”
“Oh, right.”
It frightened her, the realization.
We’re leaving the crash site.
And Jake was right. They were exposed to the elements out here, at the helicopter site. Who knew how long it’d be before help arrived?
You’re not doing this alone, you’re with him.
She grabbed the knapsack and clambered over the wreckage back to the cockpit and rummaged around, digging for useful items. She found a satellite phone with a GPS tracker, a flashlight, a flare, some snack bars, and bottles of water. She kept on digging, and then, on a sudden impulse, when she opened the glove box and shoved her hand inside, her fingers curled around something thin and hard, and she smiled with pleased surprise.
An extra-large chocolate Hershey’s.
Cool beans.
She stuffed everything into the knapsack, zipped it shut, and returned to Jake’s side. In the time that she’d been occupied, he’d put his time to good use as well; he’d fashioned a kind of cane for himself, out of the loose debris and wood fragments and saplings lying around on the ground nearby.
He smiled up at her as she drew near. “I ought to be able to walk on my own.”
“Sounds good.”
She looked out at the woods, and did her eyes betray her, or had a sudden blanket of darkness dropped across the horizon, making everything look darker and colder.
She shivered with apprehension.
Jake heaved himself up to a seated position, and as he adjusted himself, a sweat broke out across his brow. He was in severe pain; the poor man looked strained and worn.
“Hold on a sec,” he said.
“Of course,” she said, while inwardly she fretted.
He shouldn’t move. How far are we going to walk to find this mythical cabin?
“Here we go,” he said, and he put the makeshift cane firmly on the ground and tried to bring himself to a standing position, and as he did so, he screamed in pain.
Sarah hurried forward and helped him struggle to his feet. She looked at his face as he leaned on the cane. His skin had turned clammy and his features ashen.
“Jake, we shouldn’t move you. It’s too dangerous.”
“Let’s go,” he said evenly.
Time to go.
She was glad for Jake’s effort to manage his own movements, for she found, even after taking a few steps, and with the heavy knapsack on her back, it was hard going.
At last, though, and by painstaking degrees, they finally hobbled clear of the helicopter crash debris, and started toward the woods.
Tears crept down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’m scared,” she whimpered.
“You’re doing great,” he said.
And then, as easily as breathing, he reached forward and rubbed his thumb gently, across her cheek. She smiled through her tears.
If he didn’t have a broken leg . . . if we weren’t in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, with a grizzly watching our every step . . . I might just do something about my tremendous attraction to Doctor Jake Roundtree.
They reached the edge of the woods and she glanced back over her shoulder one last time. Were they really doing the right thing? They were heading directly for the bear—correction, the grizzly, and who knew, perhaps his entire hungry family.
“Come on, honey,” he urged her.
She stepped into the woods.
As they entered the protective canopy of the woods, Jake sensed his bones growing warmer, which initially surprised him, but then he realized the reason.
We’re in the dark woods, with no sunlight streaming in through the dead winter branches, but the trees are blocking us from the wind.
He glanced over at Sarah, to see how she was handling this, but she kept her head down. She adjusted the straps on her knapsack, took a sip of water. She looked up, noticed him gazing at her, and bobbled her head a little, smiling shyly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just checking on you.”
“I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m good. This is my natural environment.”
She smiled faintly.
After a time, they came to a clearing, and as they stepped into it, Sarah noticed the remains of a long-ago fire, with charred bits and pieces of wood, and white ash, along with burned-out pieces of wood, contained in a circle of rocks.
“Hey, this looks promising.”
“I can’t believe people camped out here, with grizzlies around!” She looked around her, as if half-expecting a grizzly to emerge from the woods and growl.
“A lot of hardy souls love the great outdoors.”
“They must enjoy getting eaten.”
“We may find a cabin yet,” Jake said.
They kept on walking.
“How much longer?” she asked at last.
“A little further,” he said, tight-lipped, his brow wet with sweat.
“Are you sure?”
“I think I know this place.”
“Okay.”
After they’d walked on a little bit, she slowed to a stop. “Jake, I think we’ve gone too far.”
“No, we’re good.”
She didn’t understand what he was getting at. In her opinion, they should’ve stopped at the campsite they found. Why’d he insist on leaving it?
“Let’s check the compass. It’s in your knapsack, isn’t it?”
“Do we really need to look at it?”
“I think it’d be a good idea.”
“Oh, all right.” She fought back a wave of frustration. If Jake said he needed to check the compass, then he needed to check the compass. She dropped to her knees, let the knapsack fall from her shoulders, opened it and rummaged around inside, until her fingers closed around the hard, circular item with the soft-brushed metal back and glass front. The compass. As she stood back up, with the compass in the palm of her hand, she looked at him and inhaled sharply.
Jake looked awful. He was ashen, clammy, and shaking, but not from the cold.
“Jake, oh my God.”
And then it hit her, why he’d insisted she find the compass. It’d b
een a subterfuge on his part to give him a much-needed rest.
“I need to give you some pain relief.”
“Well, okay,” he said.
Her heart shuddered at how easily he’d given in. His failure to put up much of a fight worried her more than a starving grizzly. “Sit down here,” she said, pointing to a stump, and he collapsed onto it with a cry of pain.
“I do need a bit of a rest,” he said.
She dropped down to her knees again and prepared a syringe.
“What’s in there?” he asked with a weak smile. “No, don’t give me any more fentanyl.”
“You need pain relief.”
“The pain is getting worse,” he admitted. “But give me OxyContin, instead.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She put the syringe away, found the bottle of OxyContin, removed the lid, and tapped out a pill.
“Half,” he rasped. “Give me half.”
“Okay,” she said. She broke the tablet into two pieces with her fingernails, put the unused half back into the bottle, and handed him the half tablet, along with a bottle of water. Then she reached back into the knapsack and found the chocolate bar. She tore off a corner of the wrapper and broke off two pieces of the huge bar and handed him one piece while she ate the other.
“That’ll help the medicine go down,” he said, as he swallowed the pill, then popped the chocolate into his mouth and chewed.
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“If we don’t find a shelter in the next hundred yards or so,” he said, “let’s go back to the campsite and get a fire started.”
“Okay,” she said, realizing, even as he said these words, that this was a bad thing. A clearing in the woods was a good place to rest, but come nightfall, they’d attract a lot of animals . . . and perhaps even a bear or two.
He seemed to notice her fear, for he smiled warmly. “No worries, pet. We’re gonna be fine.”
“Okay.”
And then, just like that, he leaned his back against a tree, closed his eyes, and dozed, his neck tilted at an uncomfortable angle.
Oh, the poor man. He’s really in bad shape.
She glanced up through the canopy of trees.