Shared by the Mountain Men

by Eddie Cleveland

  It would destroy me.

  My hands are shaking like the last fall leaf clinging to an old oak tree in a windstorm. That’s it, isn’t it? It’s not that I’m afraid to move in here. It’s not that I’m worried about getting rid of my apartment or changing things with work, not really. It’s the fact that I already care about them so much, if I did agree to stay and it didn’t work out, I know I’d never recover.

  I’ve already fallen for them. Both of them. And I’m so scared of losing them that I’d rather push them away on my own terms than get tossed to the curb like a bag of trash.

  An explosion of pins and needles tingles my scalp as I fully realize what I want. What I need to do. I always try to be such a tough girl, sometimes I forget that the thing about having an unbreakable shell is that no one can hurt you, sure. But you also never let anyone in. You never have to suffer, but you never experience the simple beauty of sharing your life either.

  Breathing in a shaky breath, I ball my hands into fists and nod my head. I know what I need to do.

  I get out of bed and walk into the living room. In the kitchen, Ace is starting to pan fry some burgers. He doesn’t bother to look up at me when I walk toward him. I can’t say I blame him.

  I nervously tuck my long hair behind my ear and clear my throat. “So, I’m sure you know I’m going to get a new plane with the insurance money for Qilaq, right?”

  Ace jerks his head up and his face knots with confusion, like he’s trying to figure out a riddle. “Okay,” he answers slowly.

  “Well, I would need a place to store her. The new Cessna, I mean. I couldn’t just leave her out in the open, letting ice buildup on her wings.” I wave to the darkening window.

  Wow, it’s getting late. I didn’t realize the sun went down.

  Ace frowns. “Don’t you have a place like that in Fairbanks?”

  “Also, I would need a landing strip. Taking off and landing out here is hard enough without some even pavement to put her down on,” I continue, ignoring his question.

  “Out here?” He raises his eyebrows. “Wait, are you saying that you’re gonna stay?” Ace tilts his head and narrows his gray eyes.

  “I’d love to.” I finally admit it out loud and am surprised by the flood of relief that washes over me.

  “Really?” He drops his spatula into the greasy frying pan and rushes to my side. Before I know it, I’m being spun around the room in a dizzying circle and laughter is erupting from me.

  “Really,” I squeal.

  “You have no idea how happy you’re making me. Razor’s gonna flip. We can build you some storage, Caitlin. And we’ll figure out a landing strip too. Nothing is impossible.” He sandwiches his hands on either side of my face so hard that my cheeks squish up and my lips stick out and he kisses me on the forehead.

  Woof! Woof!

  The barking is deep, even for Gunnar. Frantic scratches at the door make us rush over and open it right away. From the darkness, the black dog emerges and prances at our feet.

  “What is it, boy? Where’s Razor?” Ace looks out the door for a sign of him.

  Gunnar rushes back out into the snow and then inside only to bark loudly and head back out again.

  “Fuck!” Realization crests over Ace’s face.

  “What?” I don’t understand what’s going on. Why is Gunnar acting so strange? Where’s Razor?

  “He wants us to follow him.” Ace jerks his head toward the big dog and starts getting his coat on. “There’s something wrong with Razor!”

  22

  Ace

  I pull on my snow pants before tying my boots on. Razor just said he was going for a walk. He didn’t say where or for how long. I know he needed to work things out about Caitlin. If he just would’ve stayed put and ate a burger, like I offered, he’d be safe right now.

  “I’m coming with you.” Caitlin dresses.

  “No, you’re not, I need you to stay here in case Razor comes back. I might need you to call for help on the radio,” I bark out the orders. I’m back in SEAL mode. We’ve got a man down and there’s no time to argue about who’s going to do what.

  Caitlin freezes and seems to think over what I’m saying. As I yank my hat over my head and slip my hands into some gloves she nods. “Okay, but I’m going to look around the perimeter of the cabin, just to be sure he’s not passed out in the snow or something.” She keeps putting on her winter clothes.

  “Good idea. Don’t wander far. Take a flashlight and a flare. You’ll find the flares in the hall closet in a box at the back. Shoot it off if you find him, that way I know to come back. If I find him, I’ll load him onto the snowmobile and bring him back here, got it?”

  “Got it,” she repeats.

  I follow Gunnar out the door. “Come here, boy. I lead him to the snowmobile. Once I’ve got it fired up, I rev the engine and get ready to follow. “Show me where he is, Gunnar. Where’s Razor?”

  Luckily the LED light on the front cuts through the darkness and helps me keep an eye on his big, black silhouette. Gunnar shoots off into the night and I follow his lead. He seems certain about where he’s going, he doesn’t hesitate or stop to sniff around. He knows exactly where he left Razor and he’s making sure he takes me to him.

  Shadows of trees arch over me, like monsters rising from the dark to steal children from their beds at night. I blink and focus my vision on our dog. Keeping the snowmobile away from any unnecessary hills or ice. I squint up ahead, trying to see if I can make out Razor in the distance, but I don’t see him anywhere.

  Rrrimmm, rooom, rrrimmm!

  The motor screeches into the night, it’s high pitched buzzing announcing our presence to the wilderness. Suddenly Gunnar stops short and I have to wrench the handlebars hard to the left to avoid running him over. I bring the old machine to a stop, but leave her running. The bright light cascades over the snow, making it sparkle underfoot.

  “Where is he?” I twist around in a circle, whipping my head in every direction as I search for Razor. I expected Gunnar to lead me straight to him, but I don’t see him. My heart sinks and cold sinks into my skin, did Gunnar lose the trail? Did he lead me the wrong way? Is Razor unconscious out here? Is he dead? I swallow a hard lump in my throat and keep searching. I don’t care if I’m out here all fucking night, I’m not stopping until I find him.

  “Ace? Gunnar?”

  I whirl around to where I hear Razor’s weak voice in the distance. It sounds like it’s coming from the tree line. I run across the crunching ice and fall to my knees next to him. He’s lying back against a tree, he’s buried the lower half of him like kids do on the beach, his legs under a mound of snow. On top of that, he’s pulled some fallen tree branches over himself.

  “What are you doing? Trying to camouflage yourself?” I chide him.

  “No, trying to stay warm.” His face twists sideways and his eyes turn to slits. “I didn’t know if I’d be out here long. Ace, I broke my leg. I heard it snap. I can’t put my weight on it,” he puffs out his words, like every syllable is an effort.

  “We got to get you back to the cabin.”

  He jerks his head in a curt nod. We both know this is gonna hurt like hell, but there’s no other option. If I don’t get him back, he’ll freeze before his leg even has the chance to set wrong. I carefully sweep the evergreen branches and snow from Razor’s legs and ease my arm around his back as I scoot my head and neck under his armpit. Using my legs, I lift him, struggling to get him off the ground until he’s putting his weight on his good leg and leaning back against the tree for support.

  “Ahhh, fuck!” he yells.

  “Okay, man, catch your breath ’cause I need you to stay standing while I bring the snowmobile over, got it?”

  “Yep,” he answers through clenched teeth.

  Gunnar dutifully lies at Razor’s feet, never leaving his side as I scurry over and drive closer. As soon as I’m parked as close as I can reasonably get, I rush back over and become a human crutch for him, helping take all
his weight as he hops to the idling machine. It takes some maneuvering, but we manage to get him on the back of the seat.

  “Go slow,” he pleads.

  I know what he means. Every little bump on the way back is going to rattle his broken bones, making them grind together and radiate pain through his leg.

  “I’m gonna do my best, I swear.” I give him my vow. “Hang on.” I ease us back to the trail and take it a lot slower heading back than we came out.

  Gunnar trots alongside us, concern for Razor still his priority. Razor yells as we hit a bump and I feel fucking awful. There’s just no way to avoid them all. I try to slow down more, but he taps my shoulder.

  “No, just get us there, going so slow is fucking worse,” he cries out.

  He’d know better than me. I pick up the speed and try to get us back home as smoothly as possible. As soon as I pull up to the front door, Caitlin bursts out of the house and rushes over to us.

  “Is he okay? Oh my God, are you all right?” She puts her hands on his face and I cut the engine.

  “His leg is broken, help me get him inside.”

  She’s not wearing her coat or even her boots. Good thing she won’t be out here long, because I don’t need another medical emergency on my hands.

  Caitlin holds Razor steady as I dismount from the seat. Between the two of us, we manage to get him off the back, but not without a ton of yelling and swearing. Ninety percent of it from Razor.

  Finally, we get him inside and over to the couch by the fire. Gunnar flops down next to Razor, watching him intently. I head over to the radio and pick up the receiver. I call for help while Caitlin comforts Razor, but they tell me the earliest they can send a plane is tomorrow after dawn.

  Well, fuck.

  “Ace?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You guys gotta set my leg, man.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think we should mess with it.” Caitlin kneels at his side and leans over him.

  “You have to. It’s only going to make it worse to leave it all night like this. I’ll tell you how to do it.”

  There’s no question I don’t want to be moving his leg around, but he’s right. I can’t just leave it and let things get worse.

  I sigh. “What do we do?”

  “Caitlin grab some scissors, Ace, grab the first aid kit and then get our wood spoons out of the drawer.”

  We scatter, listening to his directions and gather with our supplies at his side. He gets Caitlin to cut open his pants and talks me through pulling his foot down. He howls in pain as the bone shifts back into a straight line with a snap. Gunnar howls with him and Caitlin weeps into her hands.

  Sweat breaks over his brow and his breathing is like little pants. I worry he’s going to hyperventilate. “Deep breathes, bud. Fill your lungs. Good,” I coach him. “The hardest part is over.”

  Razor nods, his hair starts to soak with sweat. Caitlin rushes from the room and returns with a cool, damp cloth to mop up his face with.

  “Thanks.” He smiles at her. He looks over at me and the smile fades. “Ace, I need you to make a splint, just take the spoons and have Caitlin hold them straight on either side of my leg while you bandage it.”

  He guides us through the whole thing, like the SEAL medic he was, that he’ll always be. Even when he’s the one with the injury, Razor stays calm, cool and collected. Always a pro.

  We finally get him sorted out. He’s splinted, his foot is elevated, he has ice for the swelling and Caitlin gave him painkillers and water. Exhausted we all slump down. Razor onto the sofa and us beside it. None of us has any intentions of leaving him alone tonight. Not even Gunnar.

  I know it will feel like a long time before the sunlight creeps up behind the horizon. The hours will feel like days, especially for Razor. All we can do is try to keep him company and try to keep him comfortable. Now comes the hardest part. We wait.

  23

  Caitlin

  I feel Ace slowly tug his arm from under the pillow and roll away from me. I peer at him from under my lashes, still being lured back into my dreams by the heaviness of sleep tugging at my eyelids. He makes a fire and then stands up. I feel like I only blink for a second, but the next thing I know, Ace is hunched over me, giving me a shake. He holds his gloved finger over his lips and nods up to where Razor is passed out on the sofa.

  I sit up on the floor. “Why are you dressed for outside?” I whisper.

  “Gunnar and I are getting a head start to Fairbanks. I’m taking him in the truck.”

  “What? Why? The medics are coming, we need you here.” My voice grows more shrill and Ace motions for me to keep it down.

  “You guys got this. You don’t need me here for the medics, they’ll take care of him and airlift you guys to the hospital. But if I don’t drive there, I can’t go. There’s no way I’m leaving Gunnar behind and there’s no fucking way I’m gonna let them take you guys out of here while I wait around. I’ll go crazy just wondering what’s happening.”

  “So, you’re taking the truck?”

  “Yeah, but it’s about three hours to get there, so I’ve gotta head out now.” He points to the little digital read out of the time on the DVD player. It says it’s four o’clock. There’s still quite some time before the sun rises.

  “How will you find us?” I scrunch my eyebrows together and glance over at Razor.

  “They’ll take him to the Memorial Hospital.” Ace is clearly confident.

  “Won’t they go to the Vet Center?”

  “No, that’s more for mental health. Definitely not for broken bones. Just trust me, okay. And take care of my boy.” He gives me a quick kiss and walks away.

  I listen to Gunnar and Ace walk out the door and slide back down onto the floor. Beside the warm fire, it doesn’t take long to fall back asleep.

  I jolt awake and struggle to make sense of the sound assaulting my ears. Razor gives me a tight-lipped smile, clearly struggling with pain.

  “What is that?” I listen to the whirring.

  “That’s the helicopter.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  He doesn’t answer. He just grimaces, his mouth twisting over and his face forming a silent scream. I jump up and grab him some more painkillers and water, he swallows them down as the sound outside gets louder.

  I’ve been around Cessna’s my entire life, but I’ve never been anywhere close to a helicopter before. I look out into the yard and marvel at how it can land so closely to the house under such control. I watch the medics jump out and grab a stretcher and bag. I hold the door open for them and they don’t stop for chitchat, running straight inside and over to Razor.

  “What do we got, boss?” the man with fiery red locks of hair asks Razor.

  “Break in the lower leg. It’s already splinted and set,” he answers grimly.

  “Bring the board over!” the redhead yells at his partner, a burly man with a shaved bald head and a comically large moustache.

  They take no time at all to set Razor up on the board and get him strapped in. They unfold a large, tinfoil blanket and loosely tuck it in around him. It all takes less than five minutes. I’m just stunned, standing in the corner, trying to stay out of the way.

  They lift him up and head toward the door when I panic and spring back to life. “Wait! I need to go with you!”

  “Only family.” Mr. Moustache shakes his head.

  “She’s my fiancée,” Razor lies.

  The medics exchange a look and the man with red curls shrugs. “Hurry up, let’s get going then.” He sniffs at me. I don’t give him a reason to change his mind, I quickly hurry into my boots and coat and follow them to the helicopter, ducking my head under the propellers like they do.

  We’re loaded in and strapped down quickly. Before I have a chance to really think about how this is my first time flying since my crash, we’re lifting off the ground. The cabin sinks below us, growing smaller and smaller, until it looks like a model toy, not a home.
We swiftly glide across the sky, flying much lower than I’m used to in my little plane.

  Razor is lying still, his eyes shut tight and his lips pursed. I’m not sure if it’s the pain he’s fighting, or something else. It’s not like conversations can easily be had in here.

  I look down at the familiar view below and a pang hits me. I didn’t even realize how badly I missed Qilaq until now. It hits me that she’s gone forever. Our adventures are a thing of the past now. Sure, I’ll get another Cessna in time, but I’ll never have another sister.

  All of this hits me at once; Razor’s injury, Ace’s absence, my loss, it all feels so awful. I choke back my tears, but I can’t hold them back. I cry bitterly, turning my head so the rest of the people in here can’t see me. I’m not looking for pity or even comfort. I just want everything to be okay.

  Part of the reason the drive to Fairbanks is so long is because of the ridiculous twists and turns you have to take out on the roads. In the helicopter, we’re able to fly as straight as an arrow. It doesn’t take long before I can spot the city in the distance. The wilderness fades as the boxy buildings and concrete come into sight. Soon, we’re landing down on the roof of the hospital and being brought into the building.

  We’re led through a maze of hallways and brought down in an elevator to another floor. It’s been a long time since I’ve stepped foot in this hospital. The last time I think I came here is when I had to get my tonsils removed. And that was when I was nine. Who knew that nineteen years later I’d be back, airlifted in with one of my two boyfriends.

  No one could have predicted that. I smile despite myself and shrug off the thought. Who cares what anyone thinks? We’re happy. That’s all that matters.

  “This is the end of the line for you,” the man barks at me like a human walrus from under his moustache. I stop and see the lines of seats in the waiting room. In one of them is Ace, slumped over, with his head in his hands, he hasn’t spotted me yet.