by Will Decker
Afraid that her surreal voice would drive me crazy if it didn’t stop, I stood still for a moment, and then shook my head from side to side, hard enough to make myself nauseous and dizzy. When I still heard her calling out to me through the dizzying waves of discomfort, I started wondering how her voice could be so clear, how it could sound so real. The thought of being eternally haunted by her voice took the edge off my diminished mental stability, and I began to wonder if I was hallucinating.
The snow tractor abruptly appeared directly in front of me, and I suddenly felt too weak to stand. As if someone had let the air out of me, I slumped against the cold steel track, only slightly aware of the vibration of the engine penetrating my cold body, and harmonizing with the frazzled ends of my nerves.
With my head only inches from the gap between the cab and the tracks, I suddenly heard Sandy’s voice calling clearly out to me, and I wasn’t imagining it! Sandy was beneath the snow tractor, and she was alive!
My mind quickly imagined the worse, as I was sure that the tracks had chewed up and mutilated her legs. Or I would find her pinned beneath them, and when I moved the snow tractor off her, she would die a horrible death, just as it always happened in the movies.
Pulling myself along the side of the tracks, I frantically worked my way around the front of the machine. Dropping down to the chewed up and frozen tundra, I leaned into the cavity beneath the machine and came face to face with Sandy.
She was still lying flat on her back, unmoved from when I saw her last, just before she disappeared from sight beneath the machine. Yet, miraculously, the machine hadn’t touched her. When my first bullet startled the driver, he had veered just enough to line up the machine directly over her horizontal form, a track running along on either side of her. If he had turned even the slightest one way or the other, he would have chewed her up beneath the tracks. But to our good fortune, he hadn’t.
Her smile stretched from ear to ear at the sight of my face, and there were tears running from the corners of her eyes. Shouting to be heard above the roar of the engine, I said, “I love you! I’ll be right back.”
Sliding out from beneath, I quickly climbed up on the right hand track, all thoughts of pain and fatigue momentarily forgotten. I briefly considered climbing into the driver’s seat and backing the snow tractor off Sandy, but quickly disregarded the idea as too dangerous. What Fred had failed to do by trying, I might inadvertently accomplish through inexperience. Instead, I reached in through the door, and while being careful not to get too close to the bloodied corpse, thumbed the kill switch on the engine. It immediately revved down and grew silent.
Backing out of the cab, I turned around on the track, and dropped into a sitting position. Although my first impulse had been to simply jump from the height of the cab, I hadn’t forgotten the lacerated condition of my frozen feet, and instead, lowered myself gently to the frozen ground.
Back on the ground, I hurriedly shuffled around to the rear of the machine and got down on my knees again. “Sandy,” I called softly, my voice sounding loud in the looming silence of the still clearing.
“Yes,” she quickly answered, her voice shaking with fear.
“I’m going to grab your ankles and drag you out. If you can do anything to help…”
“I’ll do what I can,” she anxiously replied.
Grabbing an ankle in each hand, I leaned backwards, using my weight to make up for my lack of strength, and pulled her toward me. She sensed my effort, and instantly began to squirm, doing what she could to assist my efforts without using her arm.
“Please hurry, I don’t like it under hear,” she said anxiously as I slowly dragged her out from under the machine.
The bottom of the machine was lined with heavy steel plates to protect the engine and undercarriage from snow-covered rocks and stumps. Because there was barely enough room beneath the machine for her body to squeeze, if the ground hadn’t been frozen as solidly as it was, and the tracks had settled any deeper into the snow, she would have been crushed to death. Fortunately, she wasn’t, even though she was suffering from a mild case of claustrophobia.
When her head finally broke out into the morning sunshine, I quickly let go of her ankles and crawled up next to her. Overwhelmed with joy, my lips searched frantically for hers. She was visibly shaken and pale, but she was smiling and her lips were eager, as they hungrily meshed with my own. It was a long, hard, passionate kiss, and it was long overdue.
Elated, yet exhausted, I regrettably pulled away from her. Unable to keep my head raised, I slumped to the ground beside her, completely done in. I couldn’t remember ever being so happy in all my life.
“John?”
“It’s all right,” I said breathlessly, suddenly too tired to move. “Just want to rest for a minute. I didn’t sleep too well last night.”
Closing my eyes against the glaring sun, I suddenly felt a growing tightness within my chest. It was gradually becoming more difficult to breathe. When I tried to take a deep breath, my ribs hurt, and I couldn’t suck in enough air. Yet, I couldn’t remember injuring my chest or ribs.
Although I wasn’t aware that she’d moved, Sandy was suddenly leaning over me, a look of fear and concern on her face as she held my wrist in her right hand. She was checking my pulse, and the result made her grimace. It was only then that I saw her lacerated left arm dangling uselessly at her side. The arm of the snowsuit had been almost ripped clean off, leaving only a few colored threads matted with fresh blood. Her left hand was covered with blood, and blood flowed freely from the fingertips, despite the cold. She needed immediate medical attention. We needed to stem her blood loss.
I tried to rise, but I was too weak.
Sandy lowered my wrist, while saying, “I think you might have just suffered from a small stroke, John. Just lie down for a while and rest.”
I tried to rise again, and she quickly pressed me back down with her good hand. “It’s all right; I can take care of myself. Just relax,” she said weakly, reading the concern in my eyes.
All color had drained from her face, and I tried to tell her that she was losing a lot of blood, but my breath only caught in my throat like a lump of gravy. Slowly, I breathed in and out. The air was crisp and cold and it tasted of copper. She leaned over me for a minute, too weak to stand. I used the opportunity to take a closer look at her left arm and gasped at the sight of the teeth lacerations showing through the torn and shredded material of the snowsuit. The wounds were deep and ugly, and the blood wasn’t showing any sign of letting up. They were serious wounds, and she needed medical attention as badly as I did.
When my breathing normalized, I nodded toward her left arm and whispered, “That doesn’t look good.”
“It doesn’t feel too good either,” she answered wryly, yet weakly, while keeping her eyes closed, which caused me concern.
“Would you help me up, please,” I said, putting as much strength into my voice as I could.
Startled by the sound of my voice, she jerked as if awakening from a shallow sleep, and abruptly and sternly said, “You stay right where you are.”
Stiffly and awkwardly, she got to her feet, only to put a hand on the snow tractor to keep from falling over.
“Are you sure that you’re not hurt anywhere else?” I asked, watching her lean against the snow tractor while blood continued dripping profusely from the ends of her dangling fingers.
Just when I thought that maybe she hadn’t heard me, she took her hand off the snow tractor and standing upright, calmly stated, “No, I don’t think so.”
“There’s a first-aid kit in the cab, if you can reach it.”
Walking stiffly, she went to the open door of the cab, and leaned in. I was suddenly afraid that she couldn’t reach it without climbing onto the tracks, and then just as suddenly, I heard the metal case bang down on the top of the treads. I waited in silence for what seemed like a long time, and then I heard her footsteps crunching along the side of the snow tractor, coming toward me.
“Here,” she said, dropping a heavy blanket on the ground next to me.
Looking up, I noticed that her arm was still bleeding, but not as severely. The blood was congealing, losing its glistening sheen. This was good.
Stiff, feeling as though someone had just kicked me in the chest, I grabbed an edge of the blanket, and roughly pulled some of it over me, while leaving a place for her to sit. She made little grunts and groans of agony, as she lowered herself down to the blanket, the first-aid kit tucked under her right arm. Settling herself on the blanket next to me, she set the metal box of bandages and medicines next to her. Opening the lid, she found a small vial of aspirin, and by using her teeth, pried the top off.
“Here,” she said, dumping some into my palm. “I heard this is supposed to be good for what ails you.”
Without benefit of water, I popped them into my mouth and swallowed. It did me good just to hear her voice. Scratching the ground on the side away from her, I found a solid chunk of ice and stuck it in my mouth. If we didn’t have the snow tractor, and had to rely on our remaining strength to get down off the mountain, I would never have done such a foolish thing.
But we did have the snow tractor, and I was counting on it to get down off the mountain. First, though, we had to tend to Sandy’s wounds.
Pulling out a roll of gauze bandaging material, she said, “I might need your help tying this around my arm. But first, I’ll cut off what remains of the sleeve.”
With a small scissors that she found within the kit, she worked quickly, leaving her mutilated arm hanging limply at her side. Although the bleeding had almost stopped, it looked even more gruesome exposed. Moreover, the skin that I could see on her hand was turning a dark, purplish black from lack of oxygen.
Seeing me staring at her discolored flesh and not wanting me to worry anymore than I already was, she quickly said, “When I slipped and fell down in front of him, I thought it was all over. The tracks were coming right at me and then, at the last instant, they swerved and the machine went right over me. He must have heard me screaming my lungs out. I couldn’t believe how close he came to crushing me!”
While she spoke, she worked deftly with her right hand, wrapping and tying off the gauzing.
“Don’t worry,” I said calmly. “It’s over and we’re both still alive.”
“He’s dead. I saw his body when I got the first-aid kit,” she said solemnly.
“Yes. He didn’t give me any choice,” I answered her equally solemnly. “We’ll have to put his body on the back rack. We can’t just leave it up here.”
“Why, John?” she asked, a look of incomprehension clouding her beautiful face.
At first, I thought she was asking me why we had to take the body back, and not just leave it here for his hungry wolf pack to find. But then I realized that she was asking why someone would do what he had done. Cold bloodedly, he had tried to run her down, and he had almost succeeded; his act had affronted her sensibilities, leaving her slightly traumatized.
“I don’t know, Sandy, I really don’t know,” I said slowly and evenly.
“He doesn’t even know us”, she started, her voice growing increasingly angrier. “And yet, he meant to kill us. He tried to run me down!” she continued, her voice growing animated with anger and excitement. And then she suddenly broke down, her voice cracking and the tears starting to flow. “He would have succeeded, if not for you! And now he’s dead. Why? It doesn’t make any sense, John. How can anyone be so cruel?”
“I wish I had the answers you need, but I don’t. I don’t know the how’s or why’s of human nature.”
Her arm was bandaged, and it was time to get moving. If the snow tractor sat for too long, we might not get it started again.
After throwing all the stuff back in the tin kit box, she tiredly said, “I’ll go get the sled.”
“Leave it!” I said, my voice sounding sterner than I intended. “There’s nothing of value that would make the effort worth it,” I quickly and gently added.
She slowly rose to her feet, her arm hanging limply at her side. It was probably broken in several different places, and it must hurt like Hell. Yet, she didn’t complain, not even a whimper.
Leaning against the side of the snow tractor for support, she waited until her head stopped spinning, and then leaned down, offering me her good right hand.
“Are you ready?” she softly asked.
“As ready as you are.”
I grasped her hand in mine, and leaned forward. She pulled, leaning backwards against the snow tractor to keep from falling if our hands should come apart. With much grunting and groaning, I slowly rose to my feet, or at least, what was left of them.
Once again, I was surprised by the lack of pain that I felt. It didn’t make any sense that they could look so ugly and not hurt like Hell.
Leaning forward, I planted my hands on the side of the snow tractor for support, and noticed that Sandy was teetering to the side, her eyes fluttering in the backs of their sockets. She was fainting from the effort.
Moving as quickly as I could, I placed a hand under each of her armpits, being careful not to strike her injured arm. Leaning against her for balance, I could feel the weight of her body slowly settling into my arms, and then abruptly, she slumped forward, her head falling against my chest.
“Sandy,” I said breathlessly, afraid that I couldn’t hold her much longer. “Sandy, wake up!”
Her eyes slowly opened, and her body grew rigid with life. Raising her head, she looked into my eyes and smiled, momentarily having forgotten where she was.
Remembrance and recognition quickly replaced the moment of tranquility, and she steadied herself.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she said evenly, content for the moment just to remain close.
Afraid that my strength was close to failing me, I said, “We have to get moving.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied without making an effort to move. Just as I was about to remind her, she suddenly turned serious, and said, “John, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
From standing, my legs were starting to quiver, and I was getting sensations of pain from below my knees. My head was pounding, and I felt nauseous. If I didn’t get off my feet soon, I was going to fall.
“Can this wait?” I asked, almost pleading with her.
“No, it can’t!”
When I didn’t respond, she quickly continued, “I’m not the woman that you think I am.”
“Really, Sandy, that’s not important right now. I know you well enough to know that I love you. We can work out the details later, once we get in the snow tractor.”
When I started to collapse, she suddenly realized the urgency of my situation. Yet, she didn’t respond like the woman that I thought her to be. Instead, she slipped free of my clinging arms and stepped to the side, letting me fall back to the blanket.
The sky suddenly turned dark, and my vision blurred. My head was pounding excruciatingly, and now I felt my feet.
While I lay curling into a ball from the pain, I was vaguely aware of Sandy stepping past me, moving along the side of the snow tractor. I turned, trying to follow her movements, confused by her sudden strange behavior.
“Sandy,” I croaked weakly.
My vision cleared a little, and though everything appeared cloudy, as if I were seeing it through a dense layer of fog, I could see Sandy dragging Fred’s body out of the cab with her right hand. She was having difficulty getting him over the sill, as his coat kept hanging up on the raised lip. Then he came free, and she dragged him across the top of the track until the weight of the body carried it over the side, and it fell with a heavy thud to the frozen ground at her feet.
My eyes started watering, and I blinked them clear. She had grabbed him by a foot, and was dragging his body clear of the snow tractor. When she had it almost five feet from the track, she turned toward me. Her breath was creating large steam plumes in the crystal col
d air.
She was suddenly standing over me, looking down at my shivering form.
“John!” she snapped. “I can’t do this alone. I need your help.”
What is she talking about? What help can I be to her?
Bending over, she hooked her good hand behind the collar of the snowsuit and pulled upward, her voice cutting through the haze and pain. “You have to help me, John!”
She wanted me to get to my feet, but I couldn’t, the pain was too great. “Leave me,” I weakly groaned.
“No! You’re coming with me. Now get up!”
There wasn’t any clemency in her voice; she was dead serious. Realizing that I was too weak to argue, I determined to push myself as far as I could. She had made up her mind, and she wasn’t going to leave me behind to save herself. Yet, I was still confused by her earlier words, and what she meant when she said that she wasn’t the person that I thought she was. Then who was she? Or had I just imagined that? Had she really said something else, altogether?
Slowly, painfully, I rolled over and got my knees beneath me. With Sandy lifting on the back of my collar, I slowly rose to my feet. Leaning against her, we carefully stepped along the side of the snow tractor, using the track for support. When we were in line with the door, she turned me to face it.
“Now comes the hard part, John,” she said, her voice sounding exhausted, yet gentle, no longer hard and unforgiving.
Or had I just imagined that, too?
“You have to leave me, Sandy,” I groaned softly, not sure she heard me.
“No one is leaving anyone!”
The sternness was back; I hadn’t imagined it at all.
“How can we do this?”
“It’s going to be easy. All you have to do is exactly what I tell you to do.”
I heard her take a deep breath. My vision was blurring in and out. My head lolled to the left, and I saw a bright crimson oozing through the gauze on her left arm.
“Lean onto the track,” she said, her voice sounding out of breath. When I had done what she asked of me, she said, “Okay, now roll to your right, onto the track, and I’ll push you up from behind.”