The Dead of Winter (Seasons of Jefferson: Book 2)

by Julie Solano

  I’m shaking and ready to quit, when I hear a low rumbling sound off in the distance. Give it another minute, I convince myself when I’ve all but given up. Mid-compression, I wince, when a thunderous roar blasts overhead. As Mason breathes for me, I look up to see a helicopter descending upstream. I’m tempted to just give up and run to catch it, but I can’t do that to Peyton. She’s one of my best friends, and she means everything to my twin brother. I don’t know if he’s going to make it through this, but if he does and she doesn’t, he’ll never be the same. His world would fall apart without her. Mason and I continue to work on Peyton. Shaking wildly from fatigue, tears continue to stream down my face.

  I don’t know how long we labor. It could be seconds, it could be minutes. But we don’t stop; not until we’re nearly blown off the ground by the force of the landing helicopter. The door of the Forest Service chopper flies open and two firemen with bags and blankets jump out and run toward us. They are followed by Marissa. Thank you, God, for letting her find help! At their approach, I collapse in exhaustion, wailing at their feet.

  CADEN

  MY BREATHING IS HEAVY. SWEAT pools beneath my overheated body and trickles down my forehead, finding its way beyond my small tragus bump and into the opening of my ear. My eyes flutter beneath my lids, trying to escape the vision that unfolds before me. There is no relief from this haunting scene. My eyelids seem to be glued shut. Trapped, I kick at the heaviness weighing me down. The water won’t stop roaring around me. Screams. Water. Rolling. Twirling. Crunching. Flying. Dizziness invades my senses.

  Wake up, Caden. Wake up. I know I’m stuck in that place halfway between sleep and awake, but I need to convince myself to wake up and make it stop. The same haunting nightmare has been on a continuous loop for days. I kick my feet wildly, finally freeing myself from the suffocating mountain of covers. Finally free to move, I shift my weight so I can roll to the edge of the bed. The shock of the searing pain in my arm instantly pops my heavy, swollen lids wide open, reminding me of why I’m here, lying in a hospital bed. The light shining through the window pierces my sensitive eyes, blinding me momentarily. Looking away from the glare, I try to blink away the fresh black spot burning a hole in my vision.

  As it begins to vanish and my vision clears, I notice I’m still here. Room 78B. I hear the rhythmic tick of the clock, mixed with the beeping and clicking of the machines behind me. Looking around the room, I find that I’ve been left alone. It’s still early. Otherwise, my parents would be right next to me, asking more questions and trying to get me to talk. I read the clock on the wall. It’s 6:30 a.m. My parents must still be home getting ready for another day of Operation Hide Crap from Caden. Focusing on the chart that hangs beyond the foot of my bed, I can just make out a few of the details. Caden Woodley. Dislocated Elbow. Liver Lacerations. Severe Hypothermia. The words are followed by a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo that I don’t understand. And then I zone in on the date. It’s December first.

  It’s been three days since the firemen found us and flew us into Jefferson Medical Center, and I still don’t know anything about Peyton and her condition. The only question they’ve answered is how we were rescued. I guess the worst fire season on record was a blessing after all. Apparently, there were firemen doing a routine check on the fire damage in the Russians and Marbles. They spotted Marissa running down the snowy highway, frantically waving for help. She led them to the scene of the accident. If it wasn’t for our new friend and the first aid skills of the firemen, I would’ve probably bled out, and the rest of us would’ve died from hypothermia.

  Aside from the vague details of our rescue, Mom and Dad don’t have any other answers they are willing to give me. Kaitlyn, Jenna, and Mason won’t talk to me about anything related to the accident. Even my best friend Brody hasn’t opened up. Nobody who was there with me will tell me anything. Why won’t they tell me the truth about what’s going on with Peyton? How is she doing? How serious are her injuries? Is she going to make it? What are they keeping from me?

  The only comfort I have right now is knowing that she came in alive. She was lying beside me when I woke up in the helicopter. When my fingers curled around her icy hand, I swear I felt a tiny squeeze. There’s no way that was just a reflex. We landed right afterward. They didn’t even give me a chance to say goodbye. They rolled her off as soon as the door opened, and I haven’t been allowed to see her or hear from her since. No updates. No communication. Nothing. What are they hiding from me? I know one thing. I’d better start getting some answers soon, or I’m going to break out of here. I don’t care if they tie me down. I’ll gnaw through the damn straps with my teeth. I will get out of this place and find my girl.

  My arm is killing me from my injury. The pain temporarily shifts my mind away from scheming on how to get to Peyton, and slams it back into my throbbing body. I want to hit the call button to get that sweet nurse, Sarah, in here for some medicine, but I can’t lift my arm. Thankfully she’s good at her job. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll be stopping by any minute.

  My parents keep repeating how lucky we are to be alive. We? How can I believe there’s a “we” when they’re keeping me in the dark like this? Maybe I’d be a little more convinced if they’d stop protecting me from whatever news they don’t want me to hear about. How do I know we’re alive when I haven’t even seen her?

  One more thing. Don’t they understand that keeping Peyton’s condition a secret isn’t helping with all these damn nightmares? I’m afraid to close my eyes because I can’t block out the continuously haunting visions. I keep seeing Mason, Kaitlyn, and Brody struggling to pull her from the truck before it’s knocked loose and plummets down the raging river. She disappeared right in front of me. How in the hell did they save her? Damn it! I need answers!

  The door creaks open and I look up to see the friendly smile of Nurse Sarah standing in the doorway. She’s holding a tray with a small paper cup, a bottle of water, and a tablet of paper. “Hey there,” her soft voice floats through the room. “How’s my number one patient feeling this morning?”

  I push my gruff, unused voice from my body, “I’d be feeling a lot better if I knew the paper on that tray you’re carrying had some answers on it.”

  “Well, I’m not sure what kind of answers you’re looking for, but I do have a pretty potent pain reliever for you. I’m sure it’s about time for this.” She studies my angry face. “It should take the edge off a bit.”

  “Sorry, Sarah. I don’t mean to be an ass, especially not to you. You’ve been so great with me. I’m just frustrated. I need to know if my girlfriend, Peyton, is okay. She was brought in with me, and nobody will tell me anything about her condition. I’m going crazy here.”

  A hesitant grin forms across her face as she walks toward me, bends in close, and begins to whisper, “The cute little blonde girl down in room 83A?” She lifts her eyebrows and crinkles her nose. “I really shouldn’t say anything, but since you’re my favorite patient, I will tell you that she woke up last night.” She brings her finger up to her lips. “Shhh. That’s our little secret okay? Now take this medicine and let’s get rid of some of that pain.”

  My eyes grow wide, as I swallow the lump in my throat. She’s still here. She woke up. That means she’s not dead. Not only that, but I know where to find her. I commit my new favorite number to memory. 83A. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but the first place I’m going when I get out of this bed is straight to her room. I’ve got to figure out how to get to her.

  Slowly sitting up, I thank Sarah for her willingness to let me in on the little secret. The pain of the movement has my head spinning, and I’m reminded that I’m still not strong enough to get out of bed and run down the hall like my heart is telling me to do. Instead, I take the much needed medicine from the paper cup on the tray and swallow it down with the refreshing water. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I found relief in that bottle. Being upright, even for a moment, has left me weak and nauseous. Sara
h evidently sees the color leaving my face, and helps me lie back in the bed.

  “Whoa there, kid. I can see you’re not feeling so hot. Try to stay still while the medicine goes to work.”

  I do as I’m told and wait once more to feel the dizzy sensation I’ve come to expect from this pill.

  “I’ll see you in a bit,” are the last words I hear from Nurse Sarah, before I drift back to sleep in room 78B, just five doors down from the love of my life.

  I’m driving down the road in my pickup truck. Icy, cold winds gush through the open windows. I don’t understand why the windows are down. When I push the button to roll them up, nothing happens. They’re gone. Looking down, I notice shards of glass blanketing the floorboard beneath my feet. The windows have been broken out. Thank God Peyton is wearing my heavy thermal jacket, because it is bitterly cold. Not just the kind that can be fixed with a cup of hot chocolate, but the kind that bites the skin and makes one’s eyes water. Peyton is snuggled in close to my side, shivering as we drive as fast as we can through the winding canyon. Four wheel drive is limiting my speed. I can’t remember why I feel such an urgency to return to the cabin so quickly, but something is telling me to push this truck to its limit. The snow is coming down in strong gusts, and my windshield wipers are on full blast, trying to clear the muddy, snowy streaks from obscuring my vision. Off in the distance, the color red, zig-zags down the mountainside. It’s weaving in and out between a cluster of tall cedars. It looks like it could be a truck making its way down to the road. Checking my rearview mirror to see my dad’s truck carrying Brody, Kaitlyn, and the rest of the gang, I have to chuckle at the massive pile of Christmas trees in the back. They’re blanketing the cab and hanging down over the front, slightly covering the windshield. I gently pump my brakes, trying to get Brody’s attention. He should be aware that there could be another vehicle headed our way. It’s a pretty narrow road, and the driving conditions are even more treacherous with the slick snow and ice. I continue to look back in the rearview mirror, trying to get their attention.

  That’s when I hear her scream. Adrenaline bursts through my body when Peyton shrieks, “Caden, watch out!” I pull my eyes back to the road to see that not only has the red truck made its way off the mountain, but it’s coming straight for us. The driver behind the wheel seems to be waving his arm wildly. He’s coming at us in a quick blur. Slamming on my brakes to avoid the impending collision, I lose control and begin to fishtail toward the embankment. As hard as I swing the steering wheel back and forth, I can’t straighten it out. Simultaneously, several loud bangs ring through the canyon. They sound like gunshots! I can’t tell where they’re coming from. Is the driver waving his hand, or is that a gun? It all happens so fast. I hear the clanking of metal and feel the force of the impact. There’s a loud pop, and the rolling begins. I pull Peyton in close with one arm, and hold onto the steering wheel with the other, ducking, spinning, rolling, crunching. Cold. Water. Heaviness.

  “Caden, wake up. I think you’re having that nightmare again.”

  I feel the gentle pressure of a wet washcloth streak across my forehead. As with every time I’ve had this dream for the last three days, I work with much effort to pry my eyes open. When my body finally allows me to peek through my heavy lids, I see Jenna standing over me.

  “Hey Caden, sorry to wake you, but I couldn’t handle watching you for one more minute. It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”

  Looking at Jenna, I take a deep breath, slowly releasing it as I swallow the freshly formed lump in my throat.

  “The pain? I’m okay. I just took a pill.”

  “No, the nightmare. It’s hard to watch my best friend go to battle every time he sleeps.” Jenna’s response is quiet and somber. She gently sits down on the edge of my bed. I cringe in pain, as it dips beneath me.

  Jenna winces, “Sorry ‘bout that.” She scoots a little further from me, helping to relieve the dip that’s pulling my weight onto my arm. “I understand your fear of going to sleep. Every night since the accident, I’ve fought to stay awake because I know I’m about to relive the worst day of my life.” Jenna rubs her eyes, showing me that fatigue has set in. A pained expression spreads across her face, and I’m reminded that she’s trying to erase the same shattering images that are plaguing all of us. I can’t imagine what it was like for her to look over the precipice to find my truck in the middle of that raging river. I’ll never forget how she stayed by my side when she found me lying there on that bloody bed of snow. I can only imagine what she sees every night when she closes her eyes.

  Reaching out for her hand, I give it a thankful squeeze, “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Don’t worry about me, Caden. How can I help you? Anything. Just name it.”

  I look up at her sincere face, and her close-mouthed grin looking back at me. It’s comforting to have Jenna here. In all of the confusion and pain of the last three days, I had forgotten my trusted friend is always someone I can count on to help me. She’d have my back, even if it meant sacrificing her own. She’s pretty much filled in for my twin sister since I’ve been recovering from my injury.

  My poor sister. Mom and Dad say she’s having a tough time leaving the house. She’s still working through her understandable fear of being out in the open, unguarded. It makes me feel better to know she’s safe at home. Besides, Jenna is the person I need right now. She’s strong. Brave. I don’t need to protect her. The girl has guts. She’ll take on any challenge. Thinking about her character gives me an idea. She’s the one who can get me to Peyton.

  With no time to waste, I blurt it out. “Take me to her. Take me to Peyton.”

  Instantly, the smile leaves her face. Staring at me like I’ve lost my mind, she shakes her head. Her tone drops to a serious murmur, “Anything but that.”

  Upset with her immediate, inconsiderate response, bitterness courses through my veins. She didn’t even think about it. I allow myself a moment of silence so I can think this through. How can I get her to help me? I have to get her on my side. I’m desperate. I glare at her intensely, knowing there’s no other choice but to lay it on thick.

  “What happened to always having my back, Jenna? You can see this is torturing me. You’re one of my best friends. We take care of each other. I’m there for you; you’re there for me. Remember? I thought you’d always be my wingman.” I squeeze her hand one more time before letting go. Come on. How can I get her to do this for me? Think. That’s when the memories begin to roll.

  “Remember the time you snuck out to meet Dante’s band after the fair, and I covered for you? Or there was that time in biology when you were going to take an “F” instead of dissecting the frog. I made all the cuts for you when Mr. Pine wasn’t looking. Oh, and let’s not forget the time you were speeding down the road without a license. I switched seats with you before the officer got to the window. Did you forget? It’s my turn to get some help here, Jenna. How about it?” I know I’m not playing fair, and my tone is conniving, but I have to get through to her.

  A contemplative look flashes over Jenna’s face as she leans in to whisper, “Caden, you know I am only looking out for you. I know I owe you. I do, but please don’t ask me to do this. Not right now. Not yet. You’re not ready.”

  I’m furious that she’s making this decision for me. Doesn’t she see how critical it is that I get to Peyton? I’m going to have an aneurysm if they don’t let me see her. I feel an intense surge of fury come over me as I muscle myself up in the bed. Shakily, I take a deep breath, gathering my composure before I speak.

  “Jenna, I get it. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I do. But I’ve realized something today. Being kept in the dark is the one thing that’s tearing me apart. I can live with the fact that my truck is submerged somewhere in the Salmon River. I can live with the fact that I’ll be in pain for weeks. I can even live with the fact that I can’t play basketball this season. But do you know what I can’t live with? Not. Seeing. Peyton! I can’t live one more day without
seeing her! Jenna, you’re my only hope.” I pause dramatically, hoping my desperate stare will pierce through her thick skull and find its way to her soft spot. “Why won’t you help me?!?”

  Silence momentarily settles upon the room. The slight pinch and pull of her lips, tells me that Jenna is about to fold. Her eyes are squinting now as she slowly leans toward me. I watch every minuscule twitch of her face as she struggles with her decision. Finally, she speaks.

  “This is going to be tricky, but I’ll figure it out. I won’t let you down. I know where she is. When do you want to go?”

  Relief overtakes me as I slowly release my breath. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” I light up inside with joy at the renewed hope of seeing my girlfriend. “It sure took you long enough to remember which pack you’re running with.” I raise my eyebrows, smiling at the return of my partner in crime. “Now, let’s figure out a plan.”

  A quizzical look overtakes Jenna’s face. After what seems to be five minutes of deliberation, her eyes narrow in on mine. “What time do you think your parents will be here today?”

  “The last few days they’ve been coming about midmorning. The doctor makes his rounds close to lunchtime, and they like to have plenty of time to come up with questions before we see him. Last night, my dad said he was going to try to get me released. We don’t think there’s anything more they can do for me here that can’t be done at home. I’m going crazy, Jenna. I need to get out of this place.”

  “Ok, I’ve got an idea.”

  “An idea to get me out of here?”

  “No, we’ll let your dad handle that. I have an idea to get you in to see Peyton before you’re released.”

  I feel the frustration beginning to rise in my chest. I don’t see why this should be so hard. She’s like five doors down. “Just grab a wheelchair and take me down there. Nobody is stopping us,” I snap.