Shattered

by Dani Pettrey

  She tried rousing Landon, but to no avail. How could she move him? She couldn’t carry him, needed a way to pull him. Removing her jacket from the tree, she secured a sleeve around Landon’s right leg, finding his left swollen. She prayed it wasn’t broken, but now wasn’t the time for assessment. They needed to find shelter before night crept in and the temperatures dropped even further. She pulled off Landon’s outermost layer, his shell jacket, and secured it to his left ankle below the swelling. She gripped the loose sleeves from both jackets over her shoulders and used them as a harness to pull him across the snow.

  Watching the ground at her feet for any protruding objects that could injure him, she moved downhill. It would conserve energy, and with the pass buried, it would probably be their only way out. She’d search for a stream, even if it was frozen, as it might lead them to a waterside cave, or if they were extremely fortunate, they might come across an avalanche shelter or ranger’s station.

  Darkness soon swallowed what faint light there’d been. Landon moaned, his eyes flickering open intermittently, but she was never able to rouse him fully. Wind burned her cheeks, her lips. She stuck out her tongue, hoping the melting snow would ease her dry throat, but it only chilled her deeper. Pins and needles danced in her feet, so painfully she wanted to pray for it to stop, but she knew when it did, it would mean frostbite. She’d already lost all feeling in her fingers; she didn’t even know how she still managed to grip the jacket sleeves. Bleakness threatened to seep in with the cold, but she refused to give in to despair. When nothing else could shelter them, God would.

  48

  Landon woke to the crackle of burning wood. Warmth radiated along his right side and pain along his left. He opened his eyes. Shadows danced along the ceiling—a rough-hewn wooden ceiling. Where was he?

  He shifted, and pain racked his body. He groaned.

  “You’re awake. Oh, thank God.” Piper knelt by his side.

  He smiled, the simple movement excruciating. “Where are we?” His mouth was so dry that his lips cracked with the motion.

  “An avalanche shelter.”

  “Avalanche?” The horrid memory flooded back. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” He shifted to sit, and pain knocked him back down.

  “I’m fine.” She placed a cool rag on his head. “You’re the one who needs tending.”

  “My left side . . .”

  “Your leg’s swollen but thankfully not broken. Your ribs, I’m not so sure about.”

  Why weren’t they at a hospital? Why had the rescue team opted to take them to a shelter instead? “Where is the rescue team?”

  “They haven’t found us yet.”

  “Haven’t found us? Then how did we get here?” Had he managed to walk somehow and not remembered?

  “I got us here.”

  “You?”

  She smiled, holding a cup to his lips. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

  He took a sip of the cold water; it felt gloriously soothing along his parched throat. “How did you manage that?”

  “I fashioned a sling of sorts.”

  “A sling?” How could someone as slight as Piper bear his weight for who knows how far?

  “I dragged you like a sled.”

  “That probably explains the aches and pains.” He chuckled, regretting it the moment the stabbing pain returned to his side.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to move you.”

  He covered her hand with his. “I’m joking. You saved my life—both our lives.”

  “So far . . .”

  “You got us shelter, fire, water. You’re amazing.”

  “You’ve got a fever.” She brushed his hair from his face. “I crushed some Tylenol into your water, but I couldn’t get you to swallow it. There were no antibiotics or stronger pain-killers in the first-aid kit.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  He clasped her hand tighter. “I’m alive because of you.”

  She nodded, biting her bottom lip.

  He reached up and cupped her face. “Your family will fly to the rescue as soon as they hear we’re out here. Cole won’t stop until they find us.”

  “If he even knows where to look.”

  “If he can’t find us, Jake will. I’ve never seen anybody track like Jake can.”

  “The blizzard hasn’t let up.”

  “Give it a day.”

  “It’s been two.”

  “Two?” He’d been out for two days? Piper had to face everything alone for two days.

  She nodded.

  “I’m so sorry that you’ve had to face the last two days alone.”

  “I wasn’t alone. God never forsakes us, and I had you.”

  “Unconscious.”

  “I’d take you unconscious any day rather than face a single day without you.” She leaned into his hand.

  “I love you, Piper.”

  “I know you do.”

  “No.” Ignoring the pain, he pulled to a seated position. “I love you, love you.”

  “Like Cole loves Bailey?”

  “More, if it’s possible.” He loved her so fiercely, so deeply.

  “When did you know?”

  “It hit me last summer.”

  “Hit you?” She intertwined her fingers with his.

  “Like a freight train. All of a sudden I realized how deeply I felt about you.” He stroked her hair, relishing the silkiness. “That I loved you. But looking back . . .”

  She leaned into him. “It was there all along?”

  “Yeah. In some way, buried deep down, I think it was always there.” It had just taken the events of last summer for him to realize it, for him to fully grasp the depth of his love for her.

  She kissed his fingertips, and heat flared through him.

  “I feel the same way. I always knew you were my Landon. I just never realized what that meant.”

  He cupped her face. “Sure you still want me? Busted ribs and all?”

  Her hand tightened on his. “Always.”

  Landon finished the soup Piper had found stocked in the pantry and set the bowl aside.

  “Okay.” She rubbed her hands together. “Now take off your shirt.”

  He coughed. “What?”

  “We need to take your shirt off so I can check you out.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “You want to check me out?”

  Color flushed her cheeks. “You know what I mean. I need to check your injuries.”

  “Oh well, can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “No.” She pursed her lips. “I suppose I can’t. Now, take off that shirt so I can check your ribs.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. They’re just sore.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” She bent beside him, helping him lift his shirt over his head.

  Piper sucked in her breath.

  “What are the chances that was a ‘Wow, you are so sexy’ gasp rather than an ‘It looks really bad’ one?” He glanced down. Black-and-white splotches marred his left side.

  She bit her bottom lip and then smiled sweetly, though concern still brimmed in her brown eyes. “It’s a combination of both, I’m afraid.”

  He took a ragged breath as her fingers touched his bruised rib cage.

  Her fingers felt cool, but her touch was warm. He winced as she pressed harder.

  She frowned. “Just as I suspected . . . I think you’ve got a couple broken ribs. Try to take a deep breath.”

  He inhaled.

  “No trouble getting air?”

  “No.” He grimaced.

  “Painful?”

  “It’s nothing,” he lied, not wanting to worry her. She was amazing and brave, and he felt horrible that she’d had to endure the past two days alone.

  “Try it one more time, and this time let me listen.”

  She wanted to be sure a broken rib hadn’t punctured his lung.

  She moved behind him and trailed her fingers over the sc
ar at the apex of his right shoulder blade. “I’ve never asked how you got this.”

  Her touch felt so incredibly good—her fingers cool against his fevered skin, but she was inciting warmth all the same.

  “Gunshot.”

  “You were shot? How did I not know that?”

  “It was my first week on the force up in Fairbanks. Fresh out of the Academy. I walked straight into the middle of a drug deal by accident.”

  “How does that happen by accident?”

  “I was in this pizza joint. I placed my order and went to use their restroom while I waited. Two kids were in the middle of a deal. One was high. He took one look at the uniform, panicked, and shot. Luckily I got a shot off too or he might have finished me off.”

  “Did Cole keep that from me too, to protect me?”

  “No. I never told Cole. I didn’t want any of you to worry or fuss.”

  “Like I am now?”

  “Please don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  “I meant how I’m fussing over you.”

  “Trust me,” he clasped her hand over his shoulder, pulling her against his bare skin. “I love how you’re fussing over me.”

  49

  “It’s suicide to go out in this,” Bob McAllister, the head of Oregon State Search and Rescue, said as Cole loaded supplies into his rental SUV.

  “Our sister and my best friend are out there,” Cole said.

  Search-and-rescue efforts to find Piper and Landon had been stopped before they’d even begun. Word of the avalanche reached the highway patrol within minutes of occurrence, but the news that the pass was completely buried came only minutes later. Before a search-and-rescue campaign could be launched, it was shut down until the blizzard passed. McAllister refused to add to the casualty count by sending rescuers into a deadly environment.

  But Cole and his family could not wait out the storm while Landon and Piper perished in it.

  “We’ll abide by every safety precaution available,” he said to the man still standing behind him, arms crossed, feet in the military “at ease” position. “Use guide ropes, beacons, stay in constant radio contact.”

  McAllister looked him straight in the eye. “The overriding safety precaution to obey is the search-and-rescue commander’s call. No go means no go.”

  As dive rescue captain and commander of Yancey’s search-and-rescue squad, Cole knew that only too well. He’d had to make that call numerous times over the years. It was never easy, but the lives and safety of his team came first.

  But this was different. He wasn’t the captain of an official rescue team. He was a brother trying to rescue his sister and best friend. If he died trying, so be it.

  He had peace. He knew Christ had died for his sins and he’d gladly accepted the free and glorious gift of eternal life with Him. He didn’t fear death; rather, he feared losing those he loved.

  “I’d rather die trying to rescue them than condemn them to death.”

  “You and I both know the odds are high that they’re already dead.” The statistics weren’t pretty. The odds of rescuing someone buried by an avalanche dropped below one percent after forty-five minutes. It had been days.

  Cole cinched his radio in place. “We know the risks.” Having worked search and rescue for years, Gage, Kayden, and Jake knew them all too well. “And we’re going. But I appreciate your warning.”

  The big guy relented. “At least take the snowmobiles.”

  “You sure? There’s a high chance they won’t make it back.”

  Bob handed Cole the keys. “I’ll take that risk. I just can’t in good conscience send my people in.”

  Cole shook his hand. “I understand.”

  Their vehicle fully stocked and loaded, and the snowmobiles secure on the trailer, Cole pulled out of the station. Jake sat in the front passenger seat while Kayden and Gage sat in the rear. He’d done his best to dissuade Kayden from coming, but she’d have none of it. She was searching for Piper with or without him, which left him no choice.

  The blizzard had lost its edge but hadn’t ceased. Snow still fell at the rate of two inches per hour, continuing to obscure their line of sight, and twenty-mile-an-hour winds continued to erase any trace Piper and Landon might have left behind.

  “We’ll get as close to the pass as we can,” Cole said.

  Jake spread the topographical map out across the dash. “Bob said this quadrant would be our best starting point. From there I think we should head south along this riverbed. The avalanche would have pushed anything in its path down this steep embankment.”

  “I don’t mean to be pessimistic,” Kayden said. “I’m bent on searching, but without some sort of sign, we could be searching right over top of them and never know they’re buried a few feet below.”

  Cole knew it was true. “Then we need to pray for a sign.”

  50

  Piper lay curled up before the fire, the glow of the flames dancing along her pale skin. Her head rested against Landon’s shoulder. He threaded his fingers gently through her silky hair, trying to soothe her as she stirred restlessly in her sleep.

  She’d done an excellent job rationing the wood and other supplies she’d found in the avalanche shelter, but the grim reality was they were running out. Should they attempt to hike out in a blizzard without equipment or wait to be rescued, knowing that it could be days, possibly weeks before they were discovered?

  Father. He inhaled, thankful for the breath that filled his lungs. Please let this blizzard pass. I know Cole . . . if he has any idea we’re out here, he’ll be searching. Gage, Kayden, and Jake too. Please protect them and lead them to us.

  He smoothed the hair from Piper’s brow.

  Please keep her safe.

  “Up ahead.” Jake pointed, his extended arm barely visible in the falling snow.

  Cole squinted. A faint light flickered in the increasing darkness. Trudging through the snow by instinct alone and with no strength of his own, he pushed forward until he saw the shape of a cabin. He radioed Gage and Kayden. “We’ve found a shelter. It looks like someone is inside.”

  Please, Father, let it be them. Let them be safe.

  “Is it them?” Hope and anguish danced in Kayden’s voice.

  “Give us a minute.”

  He peered in the slit of the window that remained visible over the snow line. Even with a candle’s waning flame lighting the interior it was too dim to tell who was inside.

  “I found the door,” Jake called.

  Cole moved toward Jake’s voice and found him already shoveling. He joined him, warmth surging through his limbs from the exertion. Within minutes, they had the rough-hewn wooden door clear, and with a kick, Jake knocked it open. Swinging inward on its hinges, the door banged against something. His heart in his throat, Cole stepped inside.

  “Here,” a weak voice said.

  Pulling his flashlight, Cole scanned the room.

  Landon and Piper huddled before an empty fireplace.

  Relief swelled in Cole’s heart as at the same time concern racked his body. “We got them.” He surged forward, kneeling beside them.

  “Piper,” Landon said, his voice barely audible. “They’re here. They found us.”

  She opened her dark-rimmed eyes. “Cole?”

  “I’m here, honey. We’ve got you.”

  Landon woke to white-starched walls and the smell of antiseptic.

  Every inch of him hurt.

  “Well, hello there, sunshine. I’ll let them know you’re awake.”

  Landon rolled his head to the side to find Jake with a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper clasped in the other.

  “Piper?” he asked, his throat still miserably dry.

  Jake smiled and set his paper aside. “She’s fine. She’s in the next room. I’ll go get her.”

  “No. Don’t trouble her.”

  “Trouble her? Please. Wild horses couldn’t keep her away. She’s been bugging me nonstop to see if you’re awake.”

  “
She’s okay?”

  “Right as rain.” Jake smiled.

  Landon squeezed his eyes shut. Thank you, Lord.

  Jake’s boots echoed along the linoleum flooring. A door creaked. He heard Jake’s muffled voice and then a shriek of delight.

  “Piper, wait!” Cole called.

  Piper rounded the corner, her hair flying behind her, and an enormous smile on her face. “You’re awake.” She lunged for him, nearly tackling him in the bed. Cole, Gage, Bailey, Kayden, and Darcy entered after her.

  “Piper, you’re going to injure him all over again,” Cole protested.

  He’d take the severest of injuries just to feel her near.

  “I’m sorry.” She pulled back. “Am I hurting you?”

  “Not even close.” He tugged her back to him. “Jake said you’re okay?” He scanned her face and found the cut on her forehead was scabbing over nicely.

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “A little sore, but I’ll live, thanks to you.”

  “Good. Now how are we going to prove BioTech’s guilt?”

  “Piper,” they all said in unison.

  Landon chuckled and then regretted it. He clapped his hand over his ribs.

  “I was right, by the way,” she said, sitting up beside him. “Two broken ribs.”

  “Great.”

  “But the fever finally broke and the swelling in your leg is going down.” Piper kissed his brow, and warmth filled him again. “So what is our next step?”

  “You have no next step,” he said. “We’ll let the authorities handle it.”

  She sat back. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Hardly. You just survived a car bomb and subsequent avalanche. No way I’m letting you back in the line of fire.”

  She patted his face. “You’re adorable.”

  He clasped her hand. “I’m not joking.”

  “I know, and that’s what I love about you.”

  Gage’s brows shot up, and his gaze shifted to Cole.

  “That’s a discussion for another day.” Cole sighed. “When Piper told us what happened, we contacted the Portland police.”