by Henry, Sue
And you got lost.
Well, I’ll go back to sleep for a little while and think about it later.
You’ll freeze.
How could I freeze? I’m warm.
No, you’re not. You’re outside in the snow. You’re cold. Too cold. Don’t go back to sleep.
She sat up, the snow fell away from her, and it was true. Suddenly there was…not light, but…less dark. Wind and snow were hitting her face, but she could hardly feel it.
I fell down, she recalled clearly, and it buried me. I’ve got to get up. I will freeze if I don’t.
Staggering to her feet, she began wearily to fight her way out of the deep drift into which she had floundered. Carefully this time, she worked hard at getting out on the downhill side. Soon the snow released her, came only to her thighs and, relieved, she found she could move through it.
Was a cabin—somewhere? I thought I saw something before I fell. How long did I lie there? Too long.
Stomping her numb feet and swinging her arms to hit her wooden hands together to encourage circulation, she stood trying to see around her. Looking back, she could make out the rise from which she had fallen and figured out in which direction she had been looking before that. If there had been a cabin—a shelter of any kind—if her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, it had been off to the left a little and had seemed a long ways away. Tucking her hands into her armpits, she started moving in that direction. It was as good as any other.
You must not lie down again, she told herself. Whatever happens, you must not lie down.
Right.
There was a grove of trees, tall birch, bare bones without leaves, to her right, and a long open slope, partially obscured by blowing snow, out ahead. Keeping near the trees, where the snow seemed a little less deep, she wallowed and reeled through it, going down along that slope.
It was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Once again she fell, and forced herself up immediately, as she felt the desire to lie there sweep over her in frightening waves. For a long, long time she struggled on through the whiteness of the world around her, and began to feel slightly warm again. Was it really warmth created by action, or that seductive pseudo-warmth of lowered body temperature, lack of energy—freezing? She dared not assume either.
The slope finally ended in a stand of snow-draped willow. It had the shape of a creek—hidden under the drifts, lined with willow brush. Looking up, she found she could see a dark squarish shape beyond it.
There was a cabin. It wasn’t the hallucination she had feared and refused to let into her mind. It was really there.
Summoning the last of her strength, she found a space between the willows and dropped down onto the creek, crossed it, feeling the hard ice beneath the snow, and forced her way back up onto the opposite bank.
Where was the door? There had to be a door.
Rounding a corner of the cabin, she found she had walked out of the deep snow in which she had become accustomed to walking and onto a surface that was packed. A vehicle had driven there, almost up to the door she could now see next to a window. There was a dim light in the window. Someone was there? The man on the snowmachine?
Fear of him left her mind—wasn’t important—didn’t matter. Only attaining the shelter of the log structure mattered. There was nothing else.
Jessie moved to the door, pulled off one of her heavy mittens to open it, walked in, and closed it by falling back against it.
Warm. It had to be warm, for there was no snow inside, but she was so cold she could not feel it. Gradually she sank down into a heap on the plank floor, closed her eyes, and lay there, gasping for breath.
“Jessie? Jessie Arnold? Oh, God. Is it really you, Jessie?”
There was a voice and someone was kneeling beside her on the floor, shaking her shoulder.
“Jessie. Wake up, Jessie. Where did you come from? How did you find me?”
Slowly, Jessie became aware of her surroundings and the woman who kept calling her name frantically—and sniffling.
“Let me alone.”
The shaking continued.
“Please, Jessie.”
Raising her head a little from the floor, Jessie peered at the shape of the head, silhouetted in the dull light from a fire that burned feebly across the room and drew her attention like a magnet.
“Debbie?”
“Yes. How did you ever figure out where I am? I don’t even know where I am.”
Jessie’s teeth chattered and her whole body was shaking.
“Look…I’m really…cold. Let me get warm…okay?”
Rolling over, she made it to her hands and knees and crawled across the uneven surface of the plank floor to where a tiny fire burned in an old fireplace made of river stone. A barrel stove would have been more efficient at holding the heat, but even this diminutive flame was a small heaven of warmth and light. Probably better that she didn’t warm up too fast anyway.
Stripping off the other mitten and the gloves that still covered her hands, she lay down by it and held both palms out toward the warm glow.
“My feet. Can you…get my boots off?”
Tears still running down her face, Debbie worked at the laces and pulled them off.
“Oh, Jessie. I’m so glad to see you. I was so scared. I thought I’d just die here—all by myself.”
“Not if I can help it, you won’t. But I can hardly believe I stumbled onto you by accident.”
Jessie’s wool socks were damp. She moved her feet in them closer to the fire, but not too close, and lay soaking in the small heat it generated. If her hands or feet were at all frozen, dry heat was one of the worst things for them.
She waited, expecting their recovery to be painful, but just two fingers began to throb a little as they warmed—the rest felt stiff and cramped, but she began to be able to move them. Relieved, she pulled off her socks and checked her feet. The heavy, insulated boots had done their job well—no frostbite was apparent.
“I think I made it just in time. Can you put on some more…wood?”
“There’s only a few sticks left,” Debbie told her. “I think we’d better save it.”
“What do you mean? If they were using this place to keep you, there must be wood.”
“No. There wasn’t much and they burned most of it in big fires before they left.”
“Who is they? Who were they, Debbie?”
“I don’t know, except for one that I saw when I wasn’t supposed to, and I didn’t recognize him. They kept me blindfolded and tied up all the time—until just before they left. That’s when I saw that one guy—for just a second, as he went out the door.”
“What did he look like?”
“Oh, sort of tall and nice looking—maybe thirty-something. He had on a snowmachine suit—all black. I didn’t know him.”
“How many were there?”
“Two—but they talked about at least two more. From the sound of his voice the other one was older, but the younger one was in charge. They didn’t seem to like each other much.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Oh, just the way they talked. You know. The older one didn’t like the other one bossing him around. He didn’t like staying here while the other one was gone, either. There wasn’t much he did like—he was mean.”
This younger man might be the one who had picked her up on the summit, Jessie thought. So, Debbie could recognize him.
“How long was the younger one gone?”
“I don’t know. A long time. They packed up and left right after he came back.”
“How long ago did they leave? Are they coming back?”
“Hours ago. I don’t think so. They took everything with them on the snowmachines.”
“They had two?”
“Yeah. They must have brought me here on one of them while I was still knocked out from a shot they gave me. I woke up here a couple of days ago. They’ve been gone for hours now. They laughed about how I wouldn’t be
found till spring.”
“Jesus. Why are you still here? Didn’t you think about trying to walk out?”
The young woman held out her bare hands and pointed to her feet, clad only in wool socks, like Jessie’s. Though she wore her parka and the rest of her outdoor racing clothes, the bright mittens that Jessie had noticed in their meeting before Braeburn were absent, along with their idiot string.
“How could I leave?” Debbie asked, bitterly. “They took my mittens—and my boots.”
Jessie stared at her in astonishment and horror.
With little wood, the purposeful theft of the mittens and boots was a death sentence, for without them there was no way the young woman could have left the cabin, even to collect anything to burn, without freezing her feet and hands. They had clearly intended that she should stay here—permanently.
“I assume they fed you while they were here. Did they leave you any food?”
“They fed me some sandwiches and junk food. But no, they didn’t leave anything. Took it all with them. Said I wouldn’t need it—that…” She swallowed hard and began to cry silently. “That…it would just prolong…the inevitable.”
“Dear God. What—”
“Could we not talk about it, please? I just can’t.”
She sneezed, wiped her eyes and nose with a grimy tissue she dug out of one pocket, took a deep breath, and changed the subject.
“Jessie…how’s Jake? What’s happening with him…and my mom? I know they got asked for a lot of money to get me back. And the young one was excited about having got it when he came back. Do you know anything about my team and sled? Did they…hurt my dogs?”
Jessie hesitated, not wanting to worry the young woman more than necessary, feeling sick at how she had been treated—afraid to ask more at the moment. She wanted to reassure Debbie, but saw no reason to go into detail.
“Your dogs and sled are fine. Someone found them and brought them into the checkpoint. Your parents paid the money, with help from some other people. I carried it to one of the kidnappers on a snowmachine. Jake’s okay, Debbie. He and your mom are really worried about you, of course, and doing everything they can to get you back. Your mom came to Dawson when she heard. A lot of people are looking for you.”
“I’ll bet she blamed him for letting me go in the race, didn’t she?”
A small lie: “I don’t know, Deb. But it’ll be all right. We’ll get out of here somehow.” A quick change of subject. “Look, I’ve got a lot more questions about how they grabbed you in the first place and other things, but right now we need more wood.”
“Where do we get that? I’ve burned everything I could find or pry loose—a couple of planks from the floor, an old wooden box…”
“You may not be able to go outside, but I’ve still got my boots. I’ve also got a wire saw that I can use to cut dead wood from some of the trees. We’ll stay warm, at least, as soon as my hands and feet are a little better. But, honestly, I don’t know how we can travel anywhere with you in stockinged feet.”
Debbie gave her a long silent look, fear creeping back into her eyes, before she spoke, bravely.
“You could go, Jessie. Maybe you could get me some wood—lots of wood—then go by yourself—find someone to come back for me. But…you might not make it. I don’t know where we are.”
More tears of frustration, anger, and fear ran down her face to drip off her chin.
“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Jessie told her. “But before we think about it, I’ll go after wood.”
“Wood will keep us warm for a while, but without food we’ll both die here. You’d really better go.”
Gutsy, Jessie thought. Really courageous for such a young person in these circumstances.
“Or you could go,” she told Debbie. “My boots would fit you, too, I bet, and you aren’t as tired as I am. I walked here halfway from the summit, after that son of a bitch dumped me off the snowmachine and left me. I didn’t know you were here. I just got lucky, that’s all—we both did.”
“He left you, too?”
“Yes, the bastard. But let’s talk about what to do after I play woodsman, okay? I’ll also fill my water bottle with snow, so it can melt us some water to drink.”
Debbie slumped in discouragement that suddenly appeared, as she thought about their situation and her courage ebbed.
“But we haven’t got anything else—nothing to eat. We have nothing. Do you think we’re going to die?”
Jessie grinned at her, remembering what was left of her emergency supplies.
“Hey, Deb. We’re not alone, at least. We have each other, and we’ll soon have heat and water. And what you don’t know is that we’ve got more than that.”
She took the plastic bag from the inside pocket of her parka.
“Look. We have four Snickers bars. We’re rich.”
25
“It is very easy for a hungry man to freeze.”
—Jack London, “The Sun-Dog Trail”
A SIZABLE FIRE WAS BURNING IN THE STONE FIREPLACE OF the old log cabin, and a substantial pile of branches, twigs, and broken bits of dead wood that Jessie had dragged in from outside was drying across the small room, dripping melting snow into pools of dampness that soaked into the dry planks of the floor. They had used the wire saw, attaching two sticks for handles through the loops at either end, and, stretching it taut between them, pulled it back and forth so that the sharp metal cord chewed into the wood, making pieces of reasonable size. They elected to burn some of the larger branches, one at a time, by laying one end in the blaze and moving it farther into the fire as it was consumed, conserving the energy it would have required to cut it.
In front of this luxurious blaze, the two women, warm enough to open their parkas, sat on the floor by the hearth chewing small bites from half a Snickers bar each.
“All right,” Jessie agreed, reluctant at the thought of returning to the frozen world outside. “I’m willing to go and try to make it out to somewhere, find someone, if you are sure you can stay here alone. But I’ll have to get some rest first and it will be best to wait till it gets light, because it’s easier to get lost in the dark. I’ve been lost once and it turned out okay, but it might not have, and I’d rather give myself the best chance I can. Those snowmachines have left tracks that can probably be followed out to the road, though it’s miles to Tetlin Junction, I’d guess.”
“You won’t want to follow them in that direction. They were going to go east, up to the summit, then to Eagle, I think—maybe Dawson. From the way they talked, they hadn’t completely made up their minds. It seemed to depend on the weather, or someone—something—else. I couldn’t ever really tell.”
“That’s strange. You’d think they’d want to get as far as possible from the race and people who will be looking for anything suspicious. Your parents are in Dawson with the race officials—who know about this, by the way—and the RCMP inspector, who’s working hard on it. They may think these guys are gone, but they won’t take any chances with anyone who comes into town from American Summit.”
“Well, maybe so, but that’s what they said.”
“Exactly what did they say?”
“The younger one mentioned someone in Dawson they were supposed to contact, but he didn’t want to. They argued about where to go, Eagle or Dawson. The younger one wanted to go to Eagle because no one would expect them there. The other one said they would be less obvious if they slipped in with all the people in Dawson. But the other guy said there was no reason to share the money, if they could get away with it before the others could do anything about it—so he wanted to stay away from Dawson, because of that other person.”
“Did they mention a name?”
“Yes, but I didn’t recognize it and now I can’t remember what it was.”
“Any other clue to his identity?”
“No…well, they said no one would ever suspect him. Whatever that means.”
“It means it may be someone who’s involved
with the race in some way. Someone who would be expected to be there—wouldn’t seem questionable.”
Jessie remembered wondering how the snowmachine driver had known she had a gun, when most racers wouldn’t have them because of Canada’s handgun laws. Once again, she ran through her mental list of possible suspects and came up as empty of any real idea as before. Who could it be? She was too tired to think.
“I’m going to try to sleep for a couple of hours, Debbie. When I wake up it should be light and I’ll make a try at walking out of here. You should sleep, too—save your energy.”
They added wood to the fire, lay down by it, and were soon asleep. In her exhaustion, Jessie dreamed no dreams at first, but Debbie whimpered and muttered in her sleep several times, reliving the nightmare reality of her last few days of captivity. Awake, she knew she was, if not completely safe, at least out of the hands of her abductors. Asleep, she wasn’t so sure.
She could hear dogs barking. Then, out of the woods next to her snug log house in Knik, Jessie watched Tank bring the team into the dog yard. Sunny was running in his usual place, as was Wart. She hadn’t lost them after all. Tank saw her and stopped the team. Then he barked. What was wrong to inspire him to bark? What was he trying to tell her? Then the whole team began to bark and howl. It became a cacophony of howls and ki-yai yips.
A piece of wood in the fire fell with a thump, waking her to half-consciousness and concern. More wood. Get up, Jessie, and put some more on the fire.
She opened her eyes and realized that she could still faintly hear the canine chorale from her dream. Sitting up, she listened, expecting it to fade as she woke completely. It didn’t.
“Debbie.” She reached to shove at one of the feet of the still-sleeping younger woman. “Hey, Deb. Wake up.”
“Aw-w…what? I’m awake.”
“Listen. Do you hear dogs? What the hell is that?”
They sat for a minute, listening intently.
“That is dogs! It is.”
“Could it be wolves?” Debbie asked.
“Not a chance. If I didn’t know better…”
Getting to her feet, Jessie headed for the cabin door and threw it open.