He give me a look. “Believe it or not, it’s not me I’m worried about.”
He sits next to Seth, and I make my way down the trail a few yards.
I squint into the dusty air. Up ahead, a dark mound is lying in the snow. My stomach lurches at the thought of uncovering another dead wolf. I had a feeling this is what I would find when I saw it from the path but was hoping I was wrong. I dig my stick into the snow and push forward to get a closer look. When I get a few feet away, I make out the wolf’s features.
“Oh no.” I drop to my knees.
He’s still alive, barely breathing with his eyes fixed on me. For a second, I’m not sure what to do. I yell back to the group, “Wyn, Seth, come here! I found one!”
I listen for a second but don’t hear anything in return. No whistle, no hoot. I don’t want to leave the poor wolf alone. I yell for them again but the whipping wind drowns out any noise. I stare down at the red wolf. For some reason, I’m not afraid. I reach over and slowly stroke his head, still on guard, ready for any movement. But the poor thing lies still, with his tongue protruding through his teeth. I run my hand over his ear and down along his neck, the whole time checking him out visually. Once again, I see no sign of what might have caused this. Same as before.
“I’m so sorry.”
The wolf whimpers a little and then closes his eyes. I place my hand on his side and feel him take each breath. Soon, they become more and more shallow until finally he exhales one long sigh, and his body goes limp under my touch.
Tear spring to my eyes, leaving wet paths as they stream down my cold face. I shake the wolf a little with my hand, hoping for the best, but he doesn't move.
He’s dead.
Part of me wants to scream at the world. Why does everything around me seem to die? Why can’t I save one lousy thing in my life?
I stroke the wolf again and stand. No use feeling sorry for myself. The wolf is the one who got the crappy deal. I should go back and tell the guys. Figure out what to do. Porter will want to know about this immediately so he can recover the body.
I mark the area with orange tape and head back. About halfway there, the snow around me starts to swirl, reminding me of something. The time Dad and Les were caught in a total whiteout up here. Dad said it came out of nowhere. That in a matter of seconds, the world around him turned completely white and he’d lost his bearings. Didn’t know up from down. In a whiteout up here, hikers have been known to get extremely confused. Some people walk off cliffs. Some disappear into hidden snowdrifts and are never found again.
Alive, anyway.
Wyn and Seth won’t know what to do. Suddenly, a huge gust of wind churns up snow, and the air thickens. It’s as if someone has dumped a vat of flour on top of my head. My visibility fades, and all I can do is shut my eyes.
“Hang on!” I scream out to my team, hoping they hear, Then I quickly jam my walking stick deep into the thickening snow. Hopefully it will keep me stable enough so I know which way is up when this blows over. The frigid wind picks up and throws spindrift snow into an opaque cloud that reduces my visibility to nothing.
I try to take in a deep breath, but snow fills my lungs. I cough and cover my face with my arm so I don’t choke to death or drown my lungs. I’ve got to get back. As I take another step, the earth collapses under me, and suddenly I’m falling.
Without any warning, I disappear into a sea of white.
* * *
When I’m finally able to focus, I’m not sure where I am or what exactly has happened. Nothing but brightness surrounds me. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize I’m completely buried in snow. Somehow, without knowing I was even moving, I stepped into a deep snowdrift.
I cough to clear my lungs but powdery snow tries to climb down my throat. I wiggle around, but the snow is packed around me. Tight. I can’t move my arms and legs enough to dig myself out, and I have no idea how close I am to the surface. It could be a few inches or a few feet. My lungs beg for air, and I start to panic.
Oh my God. I’m buried alive. My worst fear of all.
Freaking out makes it worse, because I’m wasting any oxygen I have left. I focus on relaxing and keep my breathing steady and shallow to conserve air. Think, Grace. I quickly go back to that time when Dad rescued a skier who had fallen into a snowdrift. She had survived under the snow for over two hours. Dad said it was because the woman had stayed calm and worked slowly to carve out a small pocket for air until she was rescued.
I can do this. I just have to ward off asphyxiation and hope Wyn saw me go down.
Keeping my breathing steady, I carefully start twisting and moving my head around to carve out some space in front of my mouth. As soon as I have dug out a small pocket with my head, I force myself not to struggle. Some of these snowdrifts can go down deep, and I don’t want to slip further. Or I’ll never be found again. Not to mention, I could either deplete the air I have left or inhale carbon monoxide. Neither is good.
As I hang there buried in snow, I can’t help but wonder if Wyn or Seth will even find me. I don’t know if they heard me, let alone knew where I was exactly. And whiteouts can bring in a huge load of snow, making the drift even deeper. Even if Wyn’s a couple feet off, he might never know I’m here.
Pressure rises in my chest, but I keep my mouth shut. If my lungs fill with snow, it’s similar to drowning. What if I die here and no one ever finds me? I think of Mom. She will go through the same thing she did with Dad when he was missing, and the not knowing is worse than the possible outcomes. I know. And poor Birdee. She will feel guilty for letting me stay on the project. She’ll blame herself and so will Mom. Tommy will feel bad for not repairing our friendship. And poor Wyn will never forgive himself and probably marry Skyler because he’ll suffer from post traumatic stress.
And it will all be my fault. Once again.
I start to nod off from the lack of oxygen and shake my head to keep myself awake. Forget it. I don’t want to be the cause of anyone’s pain. My survival instinct takes over, and I cry out, gasping for air, not knowing if anyone is around or if anyone can hear me. My head gets fuzzy, and I start to feel lightheaded as I suck in another short breath. I panic and flip around, begging to break the surface and take in a huge breath.
Finally I stop. How long have I been here? How much oxygen is left before I pass out? My body relaxes and my head spins.
Maybe I’ll be happier if I just slip away.
Be with Dad again.
No more pain, no more fear, no more guilt.
I blink, and snow falls onto my cheeks. Even though I know it isn’t smart, I start to cry.
I don’t want to die.
Suddenly, I think I hear muffled voices above me. I gasp for more air and thrash under the weight of the snow, hoping to somehow bust through the heavy layer of snow and let someone know I’m here. I imagine the snow parting, and the fresh, cold air finding my lungs, allowing me to breathe freely. Allowing me to live.
I gulp in one last breath of air and scream until my oxygen is depleted. Along with any hope of surviving. My lungs convulse, begging for air, and my body cries out in pain. I try not to breathe, but my body forces me to suck in a mouthful of snow.
My air is cut off, and I suddenly feel as if I’m being held under water.
Drowning.
Finally, everything goes dark.
Survival Skill #13
Even though the victim may appear alert, symptoms of hypothermia include trembling, loss of coordination, disorientation, and hallucinations.
Someone screams in my ear, and I feel my body jerking left and right.
“Grace! Grace!”
I feel pounding on my chest and pressure on my mouth. Then more words.
“Damn it, Grace! Come on!”
My eyes flutter open, and I hear myself take in a huge breath as if I’ve plunged into icy water and finally come up for air after a long dive. I start coughing, as my lungs get greedy, taking in the air they were robbed of for so long.
But how long? I hear words and voices around me, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. Am I dead?
My eyes flutter open. At first, all I see is white and black stripes above me. As my eyes focus, I make out trees backed by a light gray sky. Wyn is kneeling next to me with a horrified expression. His eyes are red and tears are streaming down his face.
Seth slaps his hands on his forehead. “Holy crap. She made it.”
Wyn practically falls over me and kisses my face. “Oh, G! Thank God you’re okay. ”
Seth pulls him off me. “Dude, give her some space. This ain’t the time for kissing. She needs air.”
Wyn pulls back and lifts my torso off the ground. He hugs me, rocking back and forth. “I thought I lost you. Jesus, I thought you were gone.”
I try to speak, but nothing comes. It’s like I’m frozen in time. My mouth can’t form any words, and my brain seems stuck in the same place. I keep hearing Wyn say a variety of cuss words over and over. Finally my lungs recoup, and I’m able to push out two words.
“I’m okay.” My voice sounds raspy and raw. Even to me.
Wyn lowers my head onto his lap and strokes the wet hair away from my face. “Are you okay?”
I manage to smile. “Been better.”
“You scared the shit out of me.”
I look into his swollen eyes and mumble, “Sorry.”
Seth’s face pops into my view. He has a big grin. “You look like crap.”
“Seth!” Wyn shoves him back. I don’t bother to try and answer. To be honest, I can’t even if I want to. I’m still having a hard time processing anything.
Seth leans over me again, this time with a huge grin plastered on his freckled face. “Just so you know, I saved you.”
Wyn frowns but nods at the same time. “It’s true. He did. We heard you calling us and saw you standing. Right there. Then you just disappeared. Seth reacted first. He made it to you in no time flat. We didn’t know exactly where you went or how far you fell. We just dug like badgers, praying we were at the right spot.”
Wyn gets choked up as he explains.
Seth plops down and rubs his forehead. “Dude, that was a serious rush. I thought you were a total goner. That we’d find you all frozen like Han Solo in Star Wars.”
Wyn pushes Seth away from me. “This isn’t the time for your dumb jokes.”
Seth looks all innocent. “What? I’m serious. I don’t know how long it takes for someone to freeze. Turn into a block of ice. A human ice cube.”
Wyn ignores him and focuses back on me, still lying there. “It felt like forever. Luckily, Seth spotted the fur on your hat, and we just started yanking. I don’t know how in the world we were strong enough to pull you out but we did.”
Seth nods. “And you were totally blue. Like a freakin’ Smurf or something. It was narly.”
“Shut your piehole!” Wyn’s voice sounds more like a growl.
Seth looks down at me with a sad face. “Sorry, Grace. I’m just all jacked up. I’m really glad you’re okay. It would suck to die.”
I touch his hand and force out a whisper. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Seth winks and leans closer. “You know, I gave you mouth-to-mouth.”
Wyn tries to grab his jacket hood, but Seth dodges him. “I swear, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Whatever. Like you could.” Seth tumbles backward in a somersault and pops up on his knees a safe distance away. He raises his eyebrows in amusement. “You know you owe me, right, Grace? Like a life’s debt. That’s what happens when someone saves you. Eye for an eye.”
I can’t help but smile and nod in agreement. “Done.”
Seth makes a “call me” sign with his fingers.
Wyn lurches at him again. “Dude, she may have to save you from me.”
I can’t help but laugh and cough at the same time. My ribs are sore from inhaling so hard. Thoughts are going through my brain, but I still can’t seem to form a sentence. It’s like the wire between my brain and my mouth has been severed. My teeth start to chatter, and I try to force myself to sit. But my body is heavy like a wet towel, which I know is not a good sign. I try to push up but collapse on my back.
Wyn grabs both arms and pulls me into a sitting position. “Take it easy, G.”
Seth looks genuinely worried for the first time. “Dude, she doesn’t look so good. Her skin’s kinda grayish.”
“Don’t tell her that. You’re supposed to make her feel better.”
Seth snaps back. “Well, she ain’t going to feel better if she’s dead, now is she?”
Small sensations come back to me. A tinkling starts in my toes and works up my legs and into my body then trails down my arms. That’s when the pain sets in. Every part of me starts to burn. Like I’m on fire. Any small movement is a jolt of pain.
I try not to move. “I’m cold.” My body starts to shiver badly, like I’m having a seizure.
Wyn holds me down. “Jesus. She’s going into shock or something.”
Seth jumps up and grabs a few things out of the pack for his journey. “I’m gonna go find Porter. They can’t be that far from here.” Seth leans over me. “Hey. Don’t you die on me. I want to be a freakin’ hero.” He winks and runs off.
“Go. Hurry!” Wyn calls after him. He glances back down at me with a pained look on his face as I shiver uncontrollably in his arms. “G, what do I do? I don’t know what to do.”
I focus on controlling my words as best as I can. “I… I need to get warm. Hy–po–thermia.”
His eyes light up. “Build a fire. Got it.” He spends the next five minutes trying to start a fire, but all the wood nearby seems damp from the snow. He looks defeated. “Now what?”
I motion my head to the backpack. “There.”
He starts yanking stuff out of it, sifting through the gear. “Here. These will help.” He takes off my wet glove and slips his dry ones over my hands. Then he slides the extra hand warmers inside, so they’re touching my palms. He shoves a couple into my boots too. The heat feels so good until my hands thaw a little. Then they start to ache.
“The tarp,” I whisper.
He flattens out the tarp on the ground, and I crawl onto it to get my butt and legs off the wet snow. I scan the area and try to think about what we can do. There doesn’t seem to be any natural covering around. Usually building a snow shelter is best, but they can take forever to dig. I’m still trembling, and it seems to be getting worse, not better. Even with the warmers.
“What do I look like?”
Wyn stares at me. “Beautiful.” I look at him blankly until he answers again. “You’re pale as hell.”
“What about my lips?”
“Perfect.” Then he answers again. “Very blue.”
I immediately know that moderate hypothermia has already set in. Luckily, I’m still in Stage Two because Stage Three is not good. It’s hard to talk through the shivers so I throw out single words, hoping he’ll understand. “Shovel.”
He grabs the folding shovel from the pile of stuff and opens it, clicking the lock in place. “Bingo. Now what?”
I point to a dead tree stump on the side of the embankment. It’s already dug out underneath and just needs to be cleared out more.
“Clear.” I stop to catch a breath because it hurts to talk. I hold out my arms.
“Three feet wide. Got it.” Wyn takes off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders before folding the tarp over me. My body tries to get warm, but the air is blowing right through me. And my clothes are still sopping wet from being buried in the snow so long. Once I’m situated, Wyn jumps up and starts digging. Fast. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him work this hard. After what seems like forever, he stops. Sweat is dripping down his face.
“Is that good enough?” he asks.
At this point, I’m shaking uncontrollably. Almost Stage Three, but I still have my wits about me. I focus on the task at hand.
“Yeesss. Vent.”
He climbs up
on the stump and drives a stick down into the top of the man-made cave. It goes through pretty easily. This might actually work. The wind picks up and swirls some snow. Wyn glances around.
“What else?”
I’ve never seen him this eager. I smile and hiss two words. “Mountain man.”
He gives me a serious look. “Come on. Be real. It’s getting darker and colder by the second.”
He wraps his arms around his body and hops in place. I remember he doesn’t have on his coat. Lucky for him, Old Navy fleeces are warm enough. At that moment, a wolf sounds off in the distance, reminding me of the one I found before the whiteout. I wonder if the wolf died of being cold. I suddenly feel like I want to lie down, sleep, and dream of a warm, cozy place.
I close my eyes as I talk. “How deep?”
Wyn gets on his hands and knees. “About eight feet. It was already hollowed out because of the tree roots.”
I nod, still trembling. “Will it hold?”
He pushes down on it. “Seems sturdy enough.”
“Line it.”
I try to stand so he can get the tarp from under me, but my legs are like noodles and won’t hold my weight. Wyn helps me to my feet and props me against the tree. He quickly crawls inside the cave, dragging the tarp behind him. I glance up at the sky. Huge dark clouds are rolling in, and the snowflakes are getting larger. It could dump on us at any minute.
My legs and feet are so cold, my body stings. My mind seems to be getting foggier. I start to lie down in the snow, but Wyn is in front of me in a second. He snaps his fingers in front of my face, causing my eyes to pop open.
“Hey, G. Come on, stay with me. Let’s get you inside. It’s good enough.”
He drapes my arm around his neck and drags me to the opening. My whole body screams out in pain as if my muscles are angry and lashing out. I squat down and force myself to crawl in. Once inside, my body collapses onto the tarp. I already feel much warmer just being out of the wind, but now I just want to sleep. Wyn crawls in behind me and plugs the door with our gear.
Uncontrollable (The Nature of Grace, Book 2) Page 12