by Marion Myles
“I’m here. I’m coming. Hang on.”
It was hard to move with one arm bound against her chest, so she ripped down the zipper of her jacket and pulled her injured arm free of the makeshift sling. It hurt like hell, but she dug in and pulled herself through the snow.
“Liam,” she yelled. “Can you hear me?”
There was no reply, and she pushed faster. Lifting her head, she saw she was almost there and using her good hand, she began wiping away the snow in front of her. It was hard to find the ice underneath. Finally, she decided she’d have to risk it and propelled herself forward again.
Lying completely flat, she looked into the water then thrust her hand below the surface and flailed her arm in the hopes of finding him. “I’m here. Look up. I’m right here.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Something brushed against her arm, and she grabbed onto Liam’s hand. His head appeared, eyes shocky and dazed. He coughed uncontrollably.
“Kick your feet as hard as you can,” she yelled. “Get your body horizontal in the water. Come on. I know you can do it.”
The water churned, and he grabbed at the snow beside her. She tugged on his coat, inching back, and his body started to rise. His shoulders and chest came out of the water, and she renewed her pulling efforts.
“You’re doing great. Keep kicking. See if you can wiggle up some more.”
He rose out of the water slowly but surely. His lips were blue, and his whole body shook. He lay gasping and coughing on the snow while Rebecca tried to gauge how close they were to the building.
“We’re almost there. We need to keep crawling. Can you do that?”
When he didn’t respond and just continued lying there, she leaned over him with frantic urgency. “Liam. Listen to me. I can’t carry you or pull you. You have to get yourself to the cabin, and you have to do it now. So let’s go.”
He rolled over and got his knees under him, and soon began moving forward. She kept pace with him, staying close on his heels. Literally every second she imagined both of them plunging straight down into the icy water.
The building came into focus through the snow, and she saw it was a small one-story structure with a steeply peaked roof. Reaching a log buried in the snow and realizing they must be off the pond, they carefully stood and made their way toward the door of the house. Liam fell up the stairs and collapsed on the threshold while Rebecca lunged across and tried the door latch.
It was either locked or frozen shut, and she bodily threw herself against the door to no avail.
“Stay right here. I’ll look for another way in,” she yelled down to Liam, the wind whipping her words away.
Keeping close to the building, she limped along the side and around to the back where she found another door. It, too, was locked. In tears now, terrified for Liam, she continued on to a nearby window. Making a fist, she pulled the sleeve of her jacket down over her hand and repeatedly slammed it against the glass until it cracked and broke.
Once she’d cleared the jagged edges of glass away, she carefully raised her bad leg and pushed it through the opening. In a series of contortions and grunts, she landed on the floor inside and scurried as fast as she could to the front door. It was a simple thumb bolt lock, and she opened it and knelt down to Liam.
“Okay. Let’s get you inside, big guy.”
When she began pulling at his jacket, he roused himself and crawled in and onto the wooden floor before collapsing once again. She slammed the door shut and glanced around. It was dim inside given that the windows were partially covered with snow.
The cabin was arranged as mostly one large room. Looking up, she saw no light fixtures which probably meant no electricity. There was a wood burning stove in the front corner and a second one in the kitchen at the back right of the house. She ran to the room on the left where she’d come in through the window and saw two single beds and a small closet with a chest of drawers tucked in against the narrow wall.
Pilfering through the chest, she pulled out thermal underwear, a flannel shirt, a sweater, and wool socks, then realized towels would be good. There had to be a bathroom around here somewhere.
She found it tucked in on the other side of the back door beside the kitchen. It was tiny. Consisting of a sink and toilet which practically shared the same space and the smallest, narrowest stand-up shower she’d ever seen. But no towels.
Turning to the kitchen, she began opening cupboards and struck it lucky on only the second one. It was being used for general household storage and had the towels she wanted along with extra blankets and a duvet.
Back by the front door, she knelt down beside Liam and began undoing buttons and zippers and pulling off boots. She cursed her almost useless right arm but kept yanking and rolling him until she had him down to the long johns.
Liam’s skin was grey and his lips and fingers blue. He shivered, and when he exhaled, it came out in gasps.
“You have to help me now. If you could stand, we can get the last of the wet things off you. Here we go.”
He opened his eyes and, shuddering, managed to get as far as his hands and knees.
“That’s good enough. Hold on right there.”
She tugged up the top and managed to get it over his head before slipping her fingers in on either side of the waistband and starting to work the bottoms down over his hips.
“I can’t breathe,” he managed between gasps.
“Don’t worry. Once we get you warm, the breathing will come easier.”
Rebecca grabbed one of the towels, rubbed his back and shoulders, then worked on his hair. Laying out a second towel on the floor, she gestured for him to sit. When he did, she pulled the bottom half of the long johns free and tossed them aside before drying off his legs. She passed him the flannel shirt and the dry set of long johns, and he worked his way into them in jerky movements.
She handed him the socks before realizing he needed something more on his legs, so she shuffled back to the bedroom. On the top shelf of the closet, she found several pairs of pajamas and brought a set of bottoms out to Liam. He’d already added the wool sweater and gladly took the PJ bottoms and slid them on. She led him to the couch and wrapped him up in a blanket.
“We need a fire,” she announced, eyeing the stacks of wood lining the wall beside the fireplace. “Please tell me you still have the lighter?”
He turned his head to the pile of soaking wet clothes beside the door. “It was in my jacket. Don’t know if it’ll still work though.”
“Oh, it’ll work,” she said. “It has to.”
Rebecca scanned the room looking for paper but found none. Even though the wood was dry, she doubted she’d be able to start the fire with only the logs themselves. Deciding the kitchen was her best option, she almost cried when she opened a drawer and saw a full box of Duraflame fire starters and a silver butane lighter with a cylinder of extra fluid lying neatly beside it.
Within minutes, she had the fire burning nicely. She pulled the cushion off the couch and positioned it next to the stove, getting Liam as close to the heat as possible. He continued to shiver. Checking the tap, she was disappointed when no water dripped out. Likely the owner had shut everything off and drained the pipes when he left.
Still, undeterred, she dug up jugs of water and filled a small saucepan, bringing it over and placing it on the top of the stove by Liam. She sat down beside him and put his hand on her lap. She rubbed his ice-cold fingers.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like maybe I’ll live,” he said. “The plane crash was bad, but I have to say, falling through the ice was a close second. I think I swallowed most of the lake.”
“It’s starting to warm up in here. I can feel it. It shouldn’t take long for that water to boil. I’m going to hunt around for a hot water bottle.”
She checked the bedroom first, but the closet and dresser were filled with nothing but clothes. The kitchen, once again turned out to be the place holding all the supplies, and sh
e found not one but two hot water bottles. She filled up a second saucepan and added it to the top of the stove. Dipping her finger in the smaller pan, she smiled.
“That water’s coming along nicely,” she said. “I’m going back to the kitchen to do some more scouting.”
Next to the general supplies was a small selection of dishes and cups. Beside that were shelves of tools followed by firewood. When she opened the cupboard by the sink, her breath caught in her throat. Though it was mostly bare, there were dry goods on the bottom shelf.
A container of instant coffee, individually wrapped packets of crackers, two family-sized cans of beef ravioli, a small bag of instant oatmeal. Also, sugar, powdered milk and a box of rice. She felt like they’d hit the jackpot.
“Liam,” she called out. “We are going to feast like kings tonight. Look what I found.”
She took the bounty over on a dish towel and laid it beside him on the couch. He immediately grabbed several of the individual packets of crackers and ripping them open, filled his mouth with Saltines.
“So good,” he said through the food.
Following his example, she did the same although only a few crackers at a time.
“I’m feeling like ravioli right about now.”
“Me too. Oh God, I’m so hungry.”
She filled the hot water bottles and made each of them a cup of coffee with extra sugar and powdered milk. Then she dumped both cans of ravioli into one of the saucepans, added another log to the fire, and set the food on the stove to heat.
“I’m not really a coffee person, but this tastes like heaven,” she said, sipping the sweet drink.
“I am, as you know, and I’d normally turn my nose up at instant, but I have to agree with you. Did you happen to see any phones around here while you were looking for supplies?”
“No. But I haven’t been through the whole place.” She put her coffee down on the floor and started for the kitchen. “And there’s no time like the present.”
She checked every cupboard and drawer, even the ones she’d already searched, went through the bedroom top to bottom, and the vanity in the bathroom. No cell phones anywhere to be seen, but she did find bottles of ibuprofen and Tylenol in the bathroom.
She hugged them to her chest then stared at herself in the mirror. Who was that woman with bruises all over her face and that skewed nose? Her hair was scraggly, and her face looked gaunt.
“Anything?” Liam called out.
“Not a phone but some over-the-counter drugs, which I will be using liberally starting right now.”
She carried the bottles out to the couch and opened the ibuprofen, dumping two into her hand before chasing them down with coffee.
“If there’s a cabin here, there must be a road or trail of some sort. I doubt that pond is big enough for a floatplane, so the owner had to get himself and his stuff here somehow.”
“I agree.” She glanced toward the window. “Once the storm dies down, we can start scouting around. I’ll bet tomorrow we get out of here. I’m already imagining how great it will be to take a shower, eat a burger with fries, and get my stupid shoulder and ankle fixed. What are you most looking forward to?”
He was quiet for a moment. “You know, I’m not sure. The shower sounds good.”
She got up and stirred the ravioli. “It’s starting to bubble. Won’t be long now.”
He set his coffee cup aside and lay down, propping an elbow and resting his head on his hand. “It’s weird. We’re probably really close to finding civilization and being in this cabin is awesome, but at the same time, I still feel like we’re lost in the wild.”
“You’re making it sound like you’ll miss it.”
“Not miss it exactly. But out here everything was real simple. Walk. Set up camp. Drink water. When we had food, eat. And keep you safe. Most of the time my head was so quiet.”
She turned to look at him. “You mean because you were sober?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve been sober before, but not like this. Once I got through the shock of no more booze no matter what, I didn’t mind it so much. That doesn’t mean I’m not sitting here wishing for a nice, tall glass of whiskey, but there’s been no constant negotiation…if you know what I mean. Most of the time at home I’m thinking is the buzz wearing off? When can I have more? Should I top up with a Percocet? As soon as I knew it wasn’t possible to get anything, my mind pretty much let it go.”
“Yeah. I can see that. Too bad you can’t somehow set up your life that way. Though, in our modern world, I guess that’s not exactly possible, is it?”
“Probably not.”
“I think we’re good to go on the food. I’ll take it back to the kitchen and serve us up some grub.”
“Holy mother of God,” she said when she took the first bite. “I can’t believe how good this is.”
Liam only grunted and continued shoveling food into his mouth until the bowl was empty. They finished the remaining crackers and lay dozing in front of the stove which gave off volumes of heat. Finally, Rebecca roused herself.
“I think I’ll light the other stove. Might as well turn this place into a sweat lodge. Then I’m going to heat a bunch of water and scrub myself down. Do you want to wash?”
Liam yawned. “I’m too tired. Maybe in the morning. Besides, I sorta took a bath already today.”
While she waited for the water to heat, she cleaned their dishes and put them away before returning to the bedroom. It was frigid, and snow blew in through the broken window. Going to the tool cupboard, she found hammer and nails but decided she’d have to sacrifice the rug at the front door.
Dragging it back to the bedroom, she struggled to hammer it over the opening using one good arm and the other barely functioning one. Finally, she managed it, and the room plunged into darkness, but at least the wind and snow were now blocked out. She stripped the duvet and the top sheets off the beds and dragged the mattresses out to the front room.
“This might be more comfortable for sleeping,” she said.
“Mmm…okay.”
Liam rolled over, face pale, and pushed to his feet. Once Rebecca slid the mattress close to the wood burning stove, he immediately lay down. She covered him with a blanket. Retrieving pillows and the second duvet, she tucked the bedding around him and lifting his head, pushed the pillow into place.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Good…tired…” he mumbled.
She sat beside him, stroking his forehead until the water started bubbling in the saucepan. Then she set up in the bathroom, stripped down, and used a hand towel with plenty of soap, washing away a month’s worth of dirt and grime.
Her left ankle still looked like hell, and her foot was purple and yellow. There were bruises along her right ribcage, but when she gently probed, found the area to be greatly improved. Her collar bone still hurt like the dickens, and she couldn’t lift her arm above her boobs. It would probably need surgery.
As for the ankle, she wasn’t sure. It would depend on how badly she’d injured the ligaments. If not surgery, certainly months of physical therapy. Then there was her nose. More surgery, in all likelihood. It looked as though she’d be spending a lot of time in the hospital when she got back.
Deciding it would be immoral to put her dirty clothes back on, she helped herself to some of the belongings in the bedroom. Everything was miles too big, but she turned up cuffs and sleeves and felt decidedly cozy in the borrowed sweatshirt and pajama bottoms.
Back in the main area, she noticed it was dark. She made use of one of the oil lamps she’d seen earlier in the kitchen supply cupboard. Everything felt very Little House on the Prairie. She’d loved watching reruns of that TV show when she was young.
Measuring out two cups of oats, she left it soaking overnight so it would require only a quick heating in the morning. She set up the second mattress next to Liam’s and finally lay down…marveling at the wonder of sleeping indoors on a soft mattress.
Lia
m stirred, opening his eyes and turning his face toward her. He coughed several times, a deep racking sound coming from his chest, which immediately put Rebecca on alert.
“Can you tell me about that night…you know…the night I overdosed?” he asked.
She blinked at him. “All that matters is you’re okay now. Why would you want to know what happened?”
“Because I dream about it all the time and…” He paused and sighed. “I can’t really remember much from that night, but I think it’s important to know. Marisa died, and I was right there.”
Rebecca pulled in a deep breath. “Did you love her?”
Slowly, he shook his head back and forth, his eyes never leaving her face. “Truth? No, I didn’t. She annoyed me a lot of the time, but she was gorgeous, and we had fun partying together. And the sex was great. I know how bad that sounds, but I think she felt the same. Her beauty was a status symbol for me, and my fame was one for her. It’s still not right that she died though. Who called you? Was it Jack?”
“Cindy, actually. She was terrified out of her mind. Marisa wasn’t breathing at that point, and Jack didn’t want an ambulance coming and setting off the paparazzi. He sent a car for me instead. I told Cindy to give her Narcan. I’d already shown her what to do when I first started working for you…you know, in case?’
Liam’s eyebrow raised. “In case I needed it?”
“Yeah. Anyway, Marisa responded, but when Cindy reported her vitals, I knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet. I ordered her to call an ambulance. I was in the car by then, speeding to your house. When I got there, Marisa’s respiratory system was shutting down again, so I gave her a second dose. Then we hooked her up to the defib machine. I checked you and started CPR on Marisa.”
“Was she alive then?”
“Sort of. All CPR does is slow down death. You’re basically getting the bare minimum of blood pumping through the body. The machine gave her another jolt, but then I realized you were shutting down too. I didn’t have any more Narcan.” Rebecca stopped speaking, blowing out a breath and shrugging.