“Come on Abby, let’s see if we can find it.”
Abby was happy to leave the somber group after bringing up Charlie’s team. She had heard Charlie and Sam discussing their options regarding the horses, and Charlie had felt certain that of all of them, his boys could survive on their own. The geldings would stick close by, as long as there was food available.
“Any suggestions would be helpful about now. I don’t plan on staying in here any longer than necessary.” John put his foot against the wall and pushed. Nothing happened. “This stuff is frozen solid in here. Maybe we’re going to have to carve it out a little at a time.”
“And do what with it?” Mark studied the snow. “That’s a lot of snow.”
“We could melt it and give it to the animals,” Mary offered.
John laughed, but remained grim-faced, “One pot at a time? It would take us days, weeks maybe, to melt that much snow.”
“No, wait a minute. Mary may be on to something. We don’t have to melt all of it, just enough to dig a tunnel to the top. At least we could have a look outside.”
Abby came back with the small folding shovel and held it out, “It was in the box…and Lucas has something he needs to tell you.”
“No, I don’t.” He glared at Abby, obviously hoping to shut her up.
“Bring me something to put this stuff in,” John said, scraping a slice of the icy snow away.
Before Abby could elaborate, Lucas hurried to find a bucket for the snow, happy to have gotten away with his secret intact. There was no way he was going to confess what he’d been doing. Matt and Olivia knew, but he was sure they wouldn’t say anything. They would be in as much trouble as he would for not saying anything in the beginning when he’d first come up with the idea. But he’d heard someone, he thought it was his mom, talking about the ventilation. He had used a penlight that he hadn’t handed over for the good of the group and had kept it in his pocket. In the light of the fire, he’d followed the drift of smoke until it disappeared into the side cavern where the horses had been penned. It had been drawn up into a wide crack in the ceiling, that opened beside one of the side walls. He had spent the next two days exploring the fissure and found where he could see a shaft of daylight. He only used the light when his fingers couldn’t find any place to hang on and most of the time he clambered around in the dark. He felt he knew every handhold by touch alone and his feet went instinctively to the crevasses he knew would hold his weight.
He had surprised Matt and Olivia one day when he’d dropped to the ground almost on top of them. Olivia had squealed in fright, scaring the mares. Lucas had told them what he was trying to do and he’d sworn them to secrecy, or he’d tell what he’d caught the two of them doing. From then on, they had been his accomplices, until Olivia had mentioned it to Abby.
Abby wanted him to tell his folks about the shaft he had been carving out, and he had insisted that he would when it was a done deal. To be able to surprise them with a means of escape had been foremost on his mind, or so he’d told her, but in truth, he’d wanted to be the first one to see outside. Chipping the quartz away was dirty work, and he’d taken to wearing his Seahawks ball cap to keep the fragments out of his hair. It had worked well too, until he’d finally poked his head out and the wind had sucked it up and off his head. Lucas hadn’t been able to let go of his handhold to grab it. That had been the last time he’d climbed up the shaft. Now his battery had finally died, and they didn’t need another way out. All his work had been for nothing, and he had risked his life to get them out, it didn’t matter that no one knew of his efforts but his three friends.
“Lucas? Where’s that bucket?”
“Dang,” he whispered. He’d forgotten what he was supposed to be doing. “Right here. Coming,” he called and dumped the rock chips out of the bucket he’d been using in the shaft.
When he set the bucket on the ground, all he could see of his uncle, was from the waist down. He stood on chunks of piled firewood with layers of chipped ice surrounding his legs. A steady scraping sound accompanied the slivers of falling ice.
Lucas knelt and began scooping the ice shavings into the bucket. His Mother traded his now full bucket for the large pot she had already emptied.
She gave him a look that was easy for him to read. Her raised eyebrows asked, “Where were you and what were you doing?”
He nodded and began filling the pot. What was I doing? He wondered why he had not told them about his escape route before they started digging. He knew the answer, he’d wanted to surprise everyone with his efforts, but now he saw they wouldn’t have appreciated what he’d done. As Abby had told him, he could have fallen and injured himself or even killed himself and for what? To be the first one to see outside?
“Lucas, get one of those boxes for Sam to stand on.”
“Lucas, do this. Lucas, do that,” he mimed in silence but hurried to do his father’s bidding. He wondered why he hadn’t told someone else to get it. They were all standing around watching and doing nothing. He hadn’t even been in his Dad’s line of sight. It was always he who seemed to be doing all the work.
Maybe Matt and Abby were right. Maybe they should go as soon as the snow was gone. Then his dad could have someone else at his beck and call.
“Just stop it,” Abby said from beside him. “You’re trying to over-think it again.”
Lucas frowned, was he? If so, maybe she was right. Abby seemed to get him. She understood what he was going through and no one else did…well, except Uncle Sam and maybe Gina. As he walked, he thought about the people who had intervened with his father. Lucas sighed, his Mom had explained it to him, but he’d still felt like his father always singled him out when something needed to be done.
“Think of it like this, you’re always first in his thoughts.” Abby laughed because she knew how he felt. Being an only child, she had been the one her father had turned to. With the addition of Lucy, some of the tasks she had been responsible for were now done by Lucy, taking the burden off her.
Abby and Lucas stacked the things from the plastic case on the ground until it was empty. He closed the lid and locked it. Picking it up, he hurried through the gloom with the case.
“Is that thing strong enough to support his weight?”
“I hope so because if it’s not, Uncle Sam is going to be pissed if he falls because of it.”
“Lucas! Where’s that box?”
“Coming,” he hollered and walked faster, the case bumping against his leg with every step.
With the case under his feet, both Mark and John steadying it, only Sam’s feet were visible. Once he had gotten away from the immediate doorway area, the snow had become softer, and easier to dig. Evelyn, Charlie, and Mary carried containers of snow and ice to the horse buckets. When the horse’s buckets were full of melting chunks, they dumped the ice in the pool that they took their water from.
With a groan, Sam stepped down off the box, shaking the loose snow off his head and shoulders. Gina brushed it away when he couldn’t reach it. “We’re out,” he said as he wiped it from his face.
“How does it look out there?” John asked while looking up the tunnel that Sam had carved out.
Sam shivered, “I didn’t get my head all of the way out. All I did was break through the crust, and it caved in on me.”
“I thought it was daytime. Why’s it so dark?” John stood peering up the opening.
“It should be early morning if we’ve kept track of time properly,” Mark said. “Maybe it’s a little earlier than we thought.”
“We need a better way to get up there. Why don’t we angle off the tunnel and carve steps to the top?”
Sam lifted the shovel in John’s direction, “Have at it. I’m done until I warm up and dry out. The hard work is already done.”
By the end of the day, progress had been made, but it was slow work. Each step had to be carved. It seemed as if the snow had fallen and compressed under the weight of the newer snow. The men stood around and c
ontemplated how much of the white stuff had actually come down. Charlie surmised that the depth could have easily been doubled before it was condensed by the weight of it.
Mary served beef stew for the evening meal, and Evelyn contributed a flatbread she had made using the flour they’d made from the cattail bulbs. It was tasteless and heavy, but dipped into the broth it was edible.
Sitting around the fire while they ate, they discussed the progress they’d made. Sam thought they would have it completed by noon the next day if they didn’t get more snow.
Suddenly the fire they had been letting burn down for the night to bank it, rekindled. The flames jumped up and blew sideways, making those on the south side of it draw away from the licking flames.
“What the hell?” Journey cried, pulling back from the flames. She had been enjoying the warmth around the glowing embers while brushing her long hair. She ran her hands down the length of it to smother the burning hairs. The powerful stench of singed hair perfumed the air. Lucy inspected the strands to make sure the fire was out.
“Where did that come from?” Andy asked as he sheltered Journey against any more gusts.
“I wonder if the rocks in the other entrance have shifted? Something allowed that gust of wind to come in,” Mark answered. “I’ll go check on it.”
Lucas let his spoon slowly settle into his bowl. He looked around wide-eyed. His eyebrows lifted in surprise and looked from Matt to Abby. He knew where the gust of air had come from and by the surprise on their faces, so did they. The question was, would they say anything or would they leave it up to him to admit what he’d been up to. Lucas silently pleaded with them to remain silent.
Abby tipped her head, raised one eyebrow, silently inviting him to confess. Lucas shook his head no. He knew it was the time to own up, but he feared like his and Matt’s earlier adventure, he hadn’t considered the consequences. This time there hadn’t been a loss of life, but Journey could have been severely burned or worse. He thought about telling everyone at the same time, but decided that he would rather confess to his uncle in private and ask his advice, or maybe Charlie. Charlie had shown him some compassion in the past and Lucas was sure that Charlie would be more understanding and maybe offer a solution that didn’t involve having to say anything to the others. He decided to sleep on it until morning. Lucas hadn’t counted on his conscience keeping him awake half the night and tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. About the time he’d decided to wake his father and tell him what he’d been doing, Lucas fell asleep.
Chapter Ten
The next morning the opening had closed off with a thin layer of snow separating them from the outside, Sam could see the vague light and feel the how the surface lifted when he scraped. Passing the shovel down to John, he used his hands and pushed up. The ice gave way reluctantly, shattering into small slabs. For the second time, chunks of ice dropped on his head and down his shirt collar and skittered down the carved steps.
Sam hunched his shoulders and ducked his head until the pieces no longer fell. Satisfied the fallout was over, Sam cleared the hole until it was big enough he could get his head out. Using the strength of his legs and his broad shoulders, Sam stood up, widening the opening.
He stood in silence until John pushed up beside him, “Would you look at this?”
“Unbelievable,” John exhaled. He looked for several seconds and backed down the steps. At the bottom, he sighed, “Go ahead and look. You won’t believe it.”
Mark climbed up past him, and when Sam’s legs disappeared, Charlie went up too.
As Sam had turned to go back down inside, something had seemed out of place to him. He turned around and stared at the shiny surface of the snow. Sitting to the left of the opening about thirty feet away, Sam spotted the familiar blue and turquoise colors of the Seattle Seahawks. A baseball cap sat on top of the snow as if someone had given it a toss and that was where it had landed.
Carefully Sam tested his weight on the snow-crust. It held him, but as soon as he went to move one of his feet, they slipped out from under him and down he went. Before Sam could reach for the lip of the opening, he began to slide. He rolled over onto his back and rode the hillside to the bottom. When he finally stopped sliding, Sam rolled onto his stomach and looked up the incline. Charlie and Mark were bent over laughing and before he could stop them, Mark did a belly flop on the ice and slid down toward Sam his mouth open wide with the sound of his laughter leading the way.
Sam went to move out of Mark’s path, but when he tried to stand, his feet couldn’t find a secure foothold on the slick surface and down he went. Mark slid into him, pushing him further down the slope. Beside him, Mark lay on his back, breathing hard and laughing.
“Oh man, I’ve always wanted to do that but never had the time. Whenever it snowed, there was always too much to do and no time for any fun.”
“That may be Mark, but how do you plan on getting back to the top before you freeze?”
Mark rolled onto his stomach and looked back up the hill. “Oh. It looks like an ice rink, doesn’t it?”
“It does. An ice rink on the side of a hill with a fifteen percent grade and no way back up it.”
“Well, you were out here.”
Sam pointed back up the side of the slope, “I was after that.”
“A hat? Why is that so important? Oh!”
“Why is right and I think I know who it belongs to. The question is, how did it get there.”
As if taunting them, the hat skittered across the icy surface, proving it hadn’t been there long enough to freeze to the ice.
“Someone left it outside, maybe?”
“Someone was wearing it yesterday, so I don’t think so.” Sam looked at the wall of rock above the cave and saw that whoever had said they could have been covered by a drift, was partly right. There was a snow drift, and it appeared at least twenty feet tall. The surface was uneven, and he realized they were fortunate not to have had to dig into the deepest part of it. The way their opening sat in the rock wall, it appeared as if the snow had packed into the right side of the wall, and thinning as it piled up in their direction. Had the opening been any further east than it was, they could have dug for a month and not gotten out.
While he and Mark lay, trying to figure out how to get back up the slope, a gust of wind picked up the hat and sent it spinning and sliding down the ice. It came right directly at Mark and Sam. Both men grabbed for it, and while Sam came up empty handed, Mark had it clutched in his hand.
“Well, well, well,” Mark said as he looked at the inside of it. He turned the band outwards and showed Sam the name written in black felt pen. “Lucas Akins.”
Sam nodded, “That’s who I saw wearing it. That boy has some explaining to do.” Sam adjusted the band and pulled it onto his head. He pulled it down tight to keep from it being blown off.
“Grab hold of this, and we’ll pull you back up,” Charlie bellowed. He threw something at them, and Sam saw that it was rope and twine tied together. It was ten feet too short and Sam couldn’t even crawl to the end without sliding further down the hill. Mark grabbed him to hold him steady, and they both slipped a little further.
“Wait a minute. I’ll make it longer.” Charlie wound the line around his elbow and hand, pulling it away from them.
Sam shivered, “I hope he hurries before we have to take out permanent residence here. I’m starting to freeze to the surface.”
From his back, which seemed to be the safest and most stable position to be in, Sam watched as snow, as fine as pieces of glitter began to fall. As it hit the frozen surface, it swirled and danced away, lifting in the wind that had begun to blow.
When Sam went to change his position, he understood that his body temperature had warmed the spot he was lying in and was cooling quickly as their body temperature dropped. If Charlie didn’t hurry, they would have to disrobe and leave their clothing behind, frozen to the ice. His teeth began to chatter uncontrollably with the thought.
He
looked at Mark and saw that his cheeks had turned bright red with cold, but he had white speckles, much like freckles dotting his cheeks. Sam wasn’t sure, but he thought that’s how frost-bite started. Marks lips were turning blue, and Sam saw a sheen of moisture on them, and then Mark’s tongue came out a made a circuit around his mouth.
“Stop licking your lips.”
Mark went to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, but his hand and arm were frozen to the snow. He looked at Sam, panic on his face.
“I’m stuck.”
Sam answered with a low snicker, “And you always wanted to do this? I would rather be sitting beside the fire right now, but consider this, we aren’t in danger of sliding further down the hill.”
“Or climbing back up it either. I wish they’d hurry up with the rope,” Mark forced out from between his chattering teeth.
“One of you grab on,” Charlie hollered down at them. The rope or collection of tied string, rope and reins slid past Sam.
He grabbed it and tied it around Marks upper chest but underneath his arms. He pried Marks shirt sleeves from the ice and waved at Charlie. John’s upper body appeared beside Charlie, and the two men began to reel Mark up as Sam pulled Mark’s clothing free of the ice. He watched Mark use his feet to half-heartedly peddle himself up the icy surface.
Within seconds of Mark and the other two disappearing inside the tunnel, the rope snaked its way down the hill. Sam had already freed his stuck clothing and in the same manner that Mark had used scurried up the incline. He could no longer feel his face, feet, or fingers by the time he reached the top. When he tried to get his feet under himself on the top step, his knees buckled. John untied the twine from his chest and using Charlie as a crutch, they made their way down the steps.
Beyond the New Horizon: The Last Sun, Page 9