“You okay?”
I just lay there shivering. He wraps his arms around me and starts to rub my legs and arms, trying to warm me up. My frozen body barely feels a thing.
“I just want to point out that I’m taking care of you,” he says.
I stutter. “Shhhuuuttt uuuppp.”
He smiles and continues to massage my limbs.
My mind goes in and out as I step into Stage Three hypothermia. I try to close my eyes, but Wyn shakes me.
“Listen. I don’t know much, but you said it’s not good to sleep.” I nod. He looks helpless and scared. “What can I do?”
I lie still, shivering and chattering my teeth. My thoughts goes in and out. Like I’m here but not really here. Like this is all a bad dream. Foggy and strange. Distant. Like it’s not happening to me.
“I’m…so… cold.”
“I know.” As Wyn pulls layers of clothes off his body, he explains. “I saw in a movie once that a person with hypothermia needs to be skin on skin. It warms the body faster than anything.”
Yes. Why didn’t I think of that? Because my brain is like a Slushee. Surprised he knows anything about it, I stare as he unbuttons his flannel shirt and slips it off, now wearing only a white t-shirt. He trembles from the cold.
I try to stop him, “W…W...yn.” But that’s the only word my mouth will form.
He cups my face. “G, you have to get warm. You don’t look good.”
And I know he’s right. It’s our last option. To strip down and get warm from direct body heat. I manage to nod and try to take off my coat, but I can’t seem to get my fingers to bend.
“I’ll do it.” He comes over to me and unzips my coat.
I can feel his breath on my forehead as he slides my stiff arms out of the sleeves. I can’t help but remember being this close to Mo when we were camping, how I would lie next to him, feeling his warmth from behind. I push Mo out of my mind as Wyn unzips my sweatshirt. I look up at him but his face is serious and pinched as he concentrates on what he’s doing.
Saving my life.
I try to help by unbuttoning my shirt, but my fingers won’t work together. He cups my hands and blows before rubbing them between his palms. Then he unbuttons my shirt. My vision goes in and out as I feel my shirt slip off me. He lays me on my back and unzips my pants.
Suddenly, I’m back at Mo’s camp. His arms wrapping around me as he kisses my neck and shoulders. I remember his lips being so soft and silky. How they would slide over mine like lip gloss.
Wyn’s voice brings me back. “Stay with me, Grace.”
He works faster now and slips off my cargo pants, leaving me in nothing but my Paul Frank undies and sports bra. He takes off his t-shirt and then slowly lies down next to me, pressing his chest against my back. I shiver violently next to him. Almost convulsing.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. I immediately feel warmer and snuggle into him, pressing my cold body against his warm one. He reaches over me and wraps the tarp around us tight, like a human burrito. His body heat draws me in, and I roll over to face him, letting my body melt.
Soon, I can feel my body thawing. I become crazed for more warmth and slide into him more, getting closer by entwining my legs through his. Soon, my body stops trembling so much, and Wyn rubs my back. His heart beats against my chest as I bury my face in his neck, smelling his aftershave. He rubs my arms and legs, giving me permanent chill bumps.
But it’s not enough. My mind goes foggy and once again everything around me blurs.
Suddenly, I’m back in the woods again. With Mo. We’re hugging each other but he’s asleep next to me. I’m lying still, listening to the night noises, the cicadas and the frogs. But mostly, I’m listening to the rhythm of his breath in my ear as he sleeps under the stars. I can’t help but touch his face.
He opens his eyes and tucks my hair behind my ear.
I hear myself whisper, “I miss you.”
“I’m here,” he says.
He slides on top of me, molding us into one person. My breathing quickens, and I hear myself moan a little when our mouths finally meet. His lips lightly press on mine. His breath fills my mouth, giving me no desire to breathe on my own. My body goes warm inside as his lips glide over mine. I taste almonds and remember what it was like to be with him, why I’ve missed him so much. He made me feel so open and so alive.
I open my mouth and wait for his tongue to find its way in. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and closer, so we will never be apart again. We are kissing passionately, and his hands are all over me, touching me.
His body presses into mine as we fit perfectly together, piece by piece. He kisses my neck and every space on my shoulders. I want nothing more than to make love to Mo tonight. For the first time in my life to finally be with someone like that.
I start to cry. Mo’s back, and I’m finally home again. Where I belong. I open my eyes and search the foggy world for his beautiful face. His smile. His dark-chocolaty eyes.
“I love you.” I whisper.
Wyn’s face appears in my blurry view, and he kisses me lightly. “I love you too, Grace.”
Survival Skill #14
If you think you have hypothermia, seek medical help to be checked for frostbite and receive external warming
I bolt upright and hit my head on the low, icy ceiling. “Ouch!”
I’m no longer shivering, but my whole body aches and throbs as if someone has thrown me around the small cave. It takes me a minute to remember where I am and what has happened.
I’m out in the wilderness. In a cozy snow cave. I glance to my right and sigh. Only I’m not with Mo; I’m with Wyn. Slivers of memories from the previous night piece together in my mind. The shivering, being so cold, the fever. The kissing. As soon as it all floods back, I glance down at my body, barely wrapped in underwear and a bra. Thank God, I’m still somewhat clothed.
Wyn is sleeping with a slight smile on his lips. He looks much younger than usual. That baby face. At some point in the middle of the night, he’d gotten dressed, leaving me to believe nothing happened. Thank God.
I quickly pull on my pants and shirt. Then I sit there quietly, staring out the hole into the bright sun as everything replays in my head.
What have I done? I hit my palm against my forehead a few times. How could I? Kissing Wyn was a huge mistake, and this time it might cost me my friendship for good. I rub my temples. How am I going to fix this mess? Can I? Will he ever forgive me if I reject him again?
All I remember is being so confused last night, and my head being so mucky. Like a swamp. For a while there, I really thought Mo was with me. That he had come back. My heart grows heavy, remembering how wonderful it felt thinking we were together again. I’ve tried so hard to block him from my mind, but now I miss him more than ever.
I sigh and glance back at Wyn. Poor guy. He probably thinks I meant all that for him; that I feel that way about him. He doesn’t realize how bad the side effects of hypothermia can get. Delirium and hallucinations are quite common. I was not coherent enough to stop it from happening. But he doesn’t get that. How am I going to explain this to him? I kissed you because I thought you were Mo. I only said those things because I was temporarily insane. Nice, Grace.
Wyn sits up next to me and strokes my hair. “Good morning, beautiful.”
In my head, I hear Mo’s voice say Blossom. I flinch and shake away the thought. I try not to jerk away from Wyn’s touch and mumble, “Hey you.”
He rubs his eyes. “What’s the plan for today?”
I can’t even look him in the eye as I start to gather my things. “We have to leave.”
He rubs his eyes and tries to smooth down his cockatoo hair. “You sure? Maybe I want to stay.”
A chill runs down my back and my hands start to tremble. “I’m not out of the woods yet. I need to get to a hospital.”
Suddenly, outside I hear crunching in the snow.
“Someone’s here.” Wyn’s
ears perk up. “Betcha it’s Porter!”
I almost stick my head out the front door until the sound of whistling fills the air. Al and Carl fill my thoughts. I’ll never forget the song they used to whistle in the woods. I still hear it in my sleep sometimes. I grab Wyn’s arm and shake my head without saying anything. His eyes grow wide.
I whisper, “Stay quiet.”
Even though I know he doesn’t understand, he hisses back. “We need help.”
I shake my head harder and mouth, please.
My whole body starts to shake again. I can’t tell if it’s the after-effects of hypothermia or the onset of complete terror. The heavy footsteps get closer and closer. I put my finger to my lips and mouth to Wyn again, trust me.
He nods once, and we both sit quietly. Neither of us makes a sound as the footsteps walk above us. The weight of the person sends a shower of snow down on our heads. I stare at the ceiling, praying the roof will hold. I hope no one can tell we’re hiding down here. Luckily it snowed, so any trace of us would have disappeared in the night.
I think of the wolf and wonder if the person standing above me is connected to its death. Wyn reaches over and grabs my hand. I don’t pull away. My heart drums in my chest as the whistling continues. Al’s face flashes in my mind. The songs. His sneer. His alcohol breath. His knife. The way he gunned down my Dad right before my eyes.
I bite my lip to prevent me from wailing. I would rather stay here and freeze to death than run into Al ever again.
The person must stand on top of us for a while, because there is no sound. Is he looking for me? Does he know we’re here?
A few minutes later, the footsteps start up again and slowly fade into the distance. I let out a long sigh.
Wyn frowns. “You going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Porter doesn’t whistle.”
He looks confused. “Maybe a rescuer does.”
I shake my head. “Not like that.”
He faces me. “No one else would be out this far. We need to get you help.”
“I found a dead wolf. Right before I fell.”
He combs his fingers through his hair. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, but this one was alive. I saw him take his last breath. That means someone else might be out here besides us. Someone who isn’t supposed to be.”
“You think someone is killing the wolves? Because Porter doesn’t. Did you find anything different?”
I shrug. “No. Same as before. No marks or evidence of anything. I just don’t know what’s going on or why someone other than Porter would be out here. And surely they would have been calling my name or something. That person was sneaking, like he was stalking something. Or someone.”
Wyn thinks for a second and rubs his five o’clock shadow. “So what… you think that was–”
I place my hand over his mouth before he says Al’s name. “I don’t want to think. I just want to get out of here and go home. I’m sure Birdee is freaking out right now.”
Wyn quickly packs up the rest of our things. As I start to crawl out, he stops me. ‘Wait. Let me go first. Just in case.”
I nod as he crawls out the door, and for a few minutes, I hold my breath. Wondering. Is there a person still out there? Hiding? Waiting?
Wyn pops his head back in the doorway. “All clear.”
I stay where I am. “You sure?”
“Positive. The sun’s out too, so let’s hurry and hike before it gets bad again.”
I slowly inch my way out of the safe space. As soon as my body hits the cold air, I start to shiver again. “I can’t get stuck out here for another night.”
He holds out his hand to help me up. “Oh I don’t know. It wasn’t that bad.”
I make a point not to look at him. I just can’t bear to see the satisfied, happy smile on his face, knowing he thinks our relationship has moved to a new level, a level I don’t ever imagine for us again. Whether Mo is here or not.
My legs buckle underneath me. “Let me sit here for a second to catch my breath.” But really, I’m too petrified to move. I don’t know which way that person went, and we could be walking right into him.
Wyn scans the trees. “You rest. I’ll do a quick check around.”
He walks slowly around the area, in and out of trees. Even though I’m tense waiting for him to return, I lean against the makeshift cave and study the tracks in the snow, heading the opposite way we’re going. But there are no markers, which is usually what a search and rescue team does to indicate their trail. What if Wyn is right, and we missed a chance for help? This long hike out is not going to be easy for me.
Just then, I spot something in the frozen snow. At first it appears to be a long leaf or a branch, but when I lean in closer, my breath sticks in my throat. It’s a green bandana. My hand trembles as I pick it up. It looks just like the ones Al and his whole posse carried. I gasp for air as my throat closes. My heart stammers in my chest, and my eyes dart around the trees. What if he’s watching me, waiting for a moment to strike, like a cobra on a weasel?
Wyn pops out of the trees, startling me. “You ready? I found the way out.”
I shove the bandana in my pocket without telling him and keep my eyes on the trees. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
Wyn and I walk down the path. Actually, he walks, I stumble along while he does his best to hold me up. My legs feel like wet noodles, and my lungs feel as if they’ve been sawed in half. I have to stop every few yards to catch my breath and recharge.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
He urges me on. “You don’t have a choice. And by the way, since when can’t you do something you want to do? Where’s that feisty spirit I love about you?”
When he says the L-word, I mumble, feeling somewhat sick to my stomach. “It’s frozen.”
He supports me as I walk down the path. The icy breeze burns my face and sends me into trembling fits as the wind’s cold fingers reach down into my clothes, piercing my layers. I just want to crawl under a blanket and sleep or slide into a hot bath and submerge under water. Never to surface again. I’m not sure how long we walk. I just focus on taking one step at a time.
“I can’t feel my toes and fingers.”
Wyn checks my watch. “We don’t have far to go.” He obviously doesn’t realize how fast he’s walking because he moves ahead some.
I collapse right where I’m standing and gasp, taking in a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I need to rest.”
“We don’t need you getting wet again.” He lifts me to my feet.
I shake my head. “I can’t walk anymore.”
Without saying a word, Wyn places one hand on my back and slides his arm under my legs, scooping me up. “Don’t sweat it. I gotcha.”
I lay my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. “I didn’t know you were strong.”
His breath tickles my hair when he talks. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Since when?”
“People can change without you even noticing.”
I don’t say anything else as Wyn carries me the last mile out of the woods. By the time we reach the road, Agent Sweeney and a crew of people are lined up under a small tent, talking. As soon as they see us, Sweeney rushes to my side.
“Thank God you guys are okay.” He takes one look at me and motions to a stretcher. “Jesus, Grace. You look awful.”
I mumble, “Gee, thanks.”
A stretcher rolls up next to me, and Wyn lays me on it gently before he collapses onto a fold-up chair. The medics lay silver heated blankets over me and tuck them around my body. Like I’m a hot potato wrapped in foil, waiting to cook. The heat permeates me immediately. I’m so relieved to not feel cold anymore. I’m still shivering, but I can feel my body finally thawing.
Wyn leans over me with a blanket over his shoulders and lightly kisses my forehead. “You’re going to be okay.”
I whisper, “Thanks to you.”
He smiles and rubs my
cheek. “My pleasure, Little Miss Independent.”
Survival Skill #15
When surviving a trauma, sometimes to get past it, you must face the people and places that remind you of the event and not shy away.
Even before I’m able to even open my eyes, I hear someone crying.
I peek through my eyelids and see Birdee sitting next to my hospital bed. She is clutching my hand, and her head is rested on my arm. The only other sound is my heart monitor beeping in the background. I attempt to say something, but the inside of my mouth is parched and cracked. I lick my lips, but my tongue feels dry and swollen.
I hear her mumbling, “Please, please, God. Let her be okay.”
I clear my throat. “You’re praying now? The other day you two were arguing.”
Her head pops up. Her eyes are almost swollen shut, and tears are streaking down her cheeks. I immediately feel horrible for putting her through this.
She strokes my head. “Thank God you’re okay.”
I look around the room. “Is Mom here?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t been able to get a hold of her yet. The storm took down some of the lines, so phones have been out.” She starts to cry again and cups my face. “Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay. Does anything hurt?”
“Everything hurts.” I hold her hand. “I’m fine, though. Really. Wyn took care of me. I got a little cold, but really I’m going to be good as new. No permanent brain damage. At least not anything new.”
She forces a smile. “I’ve been so worried about you. They didn’t think you’d make it. The storm came in so fast and so hard. When Agent Sweeney said you two weren’t back yet, I just didn’t know what to do. Then it got to be nighttime, and I thought for sure you were–”
“Not even close. I’m fine.” She nods and wipes her face. I try to make her laugh. “What happened to the Birdee who never worries about anything? Tough as nails? The one allergic to drama.”
She remains serious and keeps a straight face. “I guess she left when your father died.” She covers her mouth with one hand and shakes her head. “I can’t lose you too, Chicken.”
Uncontrollable (The Nature of Grace, Book 2) Page 13