No Safe Haven

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  Did I hurt myself? I reached down to rub my puffy ankle. No, I tripped and fell. That's all. No harm done. It might be a little bruised, but nothing to worry about.

  Andie, you're gonna be fine. No. Harm. Done.

  Cole snored in his hole across from me. His chest heaved up and down as he took deep breaths. He looked calm and disturbed all at the same time.

  What's he dreaming about?

  I shrugged the question off and a shiver raced up my spine. Tugging on my coat I wrapped it around me. Just remember, it's better to be cold than hot. Better. Better . . . But colder.

  My teeth began to chatter. Curling up into a tighter ball, I tried not to think about the coldness.

  Cole shifted.

  I shivered again, causing my ankle to wiggle and hang limp at a strange angle. I took in a fast breath and squeezed my eyes shut.

  Don't look at it, Andie.

  Once the odd feeling in my stomach disappeared, I opened my eyes.

  Cole turned around and looked at me with sleepy eyes. I tried to turn facing his direction. My ankle didn't move like it should have. I winced.

  "Hey, Squirt, you okay?" Cole got out of his sleeping bag and crawled over.

  "I . . . just hit a rough patch of snow, that's all."

  His face softened but I could see that he wasn't entirely moved. "Can't sleep?"

  "Yeah."

  "Bad dream?"

  "Kinda."

  "Do you want to talk about it?"

  I shrugged, trying not to let my amazement show.

  Did you really just ask me if I wanted to talk about it? Wowzer, you must have taken some sort of non-Cole medication. Are you okay?

  "It's okay, Andie, if something's wrong you can tell me about it."

  "Okay. Thanks." Daddy used to say those same words.

  "Here"— he grabbed an extra blanket and handed it to me—"just don't get too hot."

  "Okay."

  He crawled back into his nook, shaking his head.

  Should I tell him about my fall? "Hey, Cole?"

  "Yeah?" He turned around, his chocolate-brown eyes swirling with something I couldn't interpret.

  "Um, nothing."

  It'll only make him worry. I've caused enough delay already.

  ———

  April 9

  6:15 a.m.

  Something like metal clinking against metal rang in my ears . . .

  Cole's awake.

  I stretched and yawned, feeling my muscles gain strength with every movement.

  My eyes slid open. Cole sat in the middle of the cave lighting the camp stove.

  I giggled. His hair was a mess.

  He looked over at me, his brow furrowed. I pointed to his head. "Is that a new style?"

  His mouth curved into a "don't-you-dare-make-fun-of-me" smile. "Sure."

  He went back to lighting his new little friend. I looked around. Why was Mom still asleep? Did she let Cole take over? That would be a first.

  "Andie, would you grab my black bag and wake your mom up?"

  "Sure." I crawled over to the bags that sat next to Mom's tunnel. "Hey, Mom, wake-y, wake-y."

  I rummaged around in the giant packs looking for Cole's. Ah ha! Come here little bag! I yanked and it fell onto Mom's sleeping bag.

  "Whoops, sorry about—"

  Mom didn't even move.

  "Mom?" I crawled over and shook her shoulder. My gaze jerked to Cole.

  He crawled over, then grabbed her wrist and checked her pulse. His eyes clouded over and he felt her forehead.

  Cole stuck his hand in the snow and started to wet her face down.

  She began to stir, then opened her eyes. "Andie?" Grogginess seeped through her words and her eyes squinted from the lantern's light.

  "Mom." I grabbed her hand. "You're all right!"

  She put a hand to her head. "Yeah, but I have a killer headache. I need some tuu."

  Cole quirked an eyebrow and turned to me.

  "Water."

  He nodded and crawled over to the emergency bag.

  "How are you this morning, sweetie?"

  "Mom, I'm fine. But you're not. I may not be able to feel pain but I can see yours just fine."

  "Okay. But it's just a bad headache."

  "You mean killer headache." I brushed her hair behind her ear.

  "Right."

  Cole passed her a water bottle. "Drink. You're starting to get a fever. We don't want you getting elevation sickness."

  She took a sip but choked and started coughing. "Cole . . . the bucket!"

  He grabbed the bucket and she lost her dinner. Her coughing got harder.

  "Mom?"

  "Andie, I need you to go to your tunnel." Cole didn't look at me but kept his attention on Mom.

  "I . . . is she okay?"

  "She has elevation sickness, that's all. Now scoot. She needs her rest, then she'll be fine."

  "Okay, yeah." She'll be fine. Just needs some sleep. She'll be fine.

  * * *

  COLE

  April 9

  Sultana, Denali National Park

  7:11 a.m.

  "Jenna?" Cole whispered as loud as he dared. "Stay awake for now."

  She nodded, her eyes glued to his.

  Their faces were only inches apart, the cave didn't offer a lot of room. He wanted to stay with her, but the smell from the bucket would make them all sick if he didn't dispose of it.

  "I'm going to dump this and clean it up a bit. I'll be right back."

  He crawled out of the cave, and dumped the bucket, convincing his own stomach that it was made of steel. Why couldn't guys handle a little puke?

  His wife had always nagged him about helping more, and now he had a small taste of it. A new respect for mothers rushed through him. The diapers they changed, the messes they cleaned up—he hadn't done any of it.

  Next time, he resolved to do more.

  Wait a minute. Next time? What was he thinking? There could be no next time.

  But as he inched his way back into their shelter, he had to admit that he wanted another chance. Needed another chance.

  He made his way back to Jenna's side. "It finally stopped snowing."

  "Good." Her response was weak.

  "You need water. And lots of it. It's the only way to get you out of here."

  "Okay."

  He tucked his arm up under her head. "I'm going to gently lift you every few minutes so you can take a few sips."

  She nodded.

  Andie's voice floated over to him. Humming a soft tune.

  Jenna closed her eyes.

  He lifted her and she drank.

  ———

  The day passed quietly.

  Jenna drinking, Andie humming, Cole trying not to lose his heart completely to two dark-haired native girls in a tiny snow cave near the top of Sultana. It all seemed so simple with the rest of the world shut out.

  He allowed a few thoughts about having a family again. It couldn't actually happen, but desperate circumstances called for desperate daydreams.

  Andie stopped her humming and broke through his silent reverie. "Cole?"

  "Yeah?"

  "How's Mom doin'?"

  "She's doing better. She's got some color back, and she's had a lot of fluids."

  All was quiet for several moments.

  "Cole?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I don't mean to be nosy, but I saw your altimeter and I'm curious. What altitude are we at?"

  No way to get anything past this kid. "About 14,000 feet."

  "So that means we have a long ways to get down." No emotion in her voice, just direct statement. Processing e
very detail of their situation.

  "Yeah." He sighed again. He'd pushed too hard, gone too far.

  "Cole, you did the right thing." She had some radar on her. "It's not your fault." A sniffle followed. "I just want to go home."

  "I know, Einstein. Me too."

  "You know, I think you're the only one I'd allow to call me that. I like it."

  "Good." He glanced down at Jenna as the silence descended again. Her eyes were open looking at him.

  "Hi."

  "Hi back. How're you feeling?"

  She slid her arms out of the sleeping bag. "Much better. Headache's gone."

  "Do you want to try to sit up and eat with us? If you can keep food down, we should probably try to start hiking down tomorrow."

  "Yeah, that'd be nice. I'm hungry. I'd like to c'eyan."

  He moved out of the way so she could ease out. "Huh? I couldn't make that sound if I tried."

  "Eat, Cole. I'd like to eat."

  "Oh. Gotcha. More Athabaskan?" Keep her talking. See if she's really thinking straight again. "How many people speak it?"

  "A lot of the native languages are dying off. A few dozen people speak Ahtna fluently, but my grandmother and mother made sure that we used some of it at home. I want to pass that on to Andie as well."

  "So, teach me some."

  Andie piped up, "Cole, you are a ciił."

  "Oka-ay. I hope that's not a cuss word."

  Andie smacked his arm. "No, you goof, it means 'man.' Ciił."

  "What's that breathy thing you're doing at the end? I can get the kee part, but I don't think I can copy that end sound."

  Andie shrugged. "You're hopeless. You can't be an expert on your first try. It takes practice."

  Jenna sighed and rubbed her stomach.

  "You're right, Einstein. But first, I'd better make some broth. Before your mother wastes away." He winked at them. "Then see what else you're hungry for." He reached into the bag for the powdered broth base, and checked the ventilation hole in the cave.

  Andie slid out of her space and scooted up to her mom. Jenna reached down and kissed her head, stroking her daughter's hair with her hand.

  A beautiful sight.

  The water took a while to heat in the thin air and he dissolved a packet to make the steaming chicken broth. At the rate they all devoured it, he knew the warm liquid had done its job.

  Jenna spoke up out of the blue. "I'm in the mood for peanut butter."

  "Peanut butter?"

  Andie laughed. "Your face is priceless, Cole." Much to his surprise, she pulled little containers of peanut butter out of a bag. "Mom loves peanut butter. And it's a good source of protein. You should try her peanut butter mud bars," Andie leaned back, dramatically smacking her lips. "They're to die for."

  Cole grabbed the bag. "Let me see what else is in this Mary Poppins bag of yours."

  Peanuts, cashews, almonds, beef jerky, granola bars, fruit leather, power bars, trail mix, more powdered broth, packets of powdered hot chocolate, more peanut butter, and microwave popcorn.

  He held up a shrink-wrapped package of popcorn. "Now how exactly are you supposed to cook this?"

  Jenna gave him a sheepish look. "In a microwave."

  Cole shook his head. "Well, that's obvious, but—"

  "I know you think it's weird, and Marc always teased me about being overly prepared for everything, but I never really thought I'd be stranded on a mountain. I just made sure there was plenty of food with us that wouldn't perish." She shrugged.

  Andie came to sit beside Cole. "We normally have string cheese with us too, but we ate all that on the flight to Anchorage."

  The two laughed together as if sharing a private joke.

  Another chink in his armor fell.

  These two really were amazing. Their relationship, their depth of character, their resilience . . . he could stand to learn a thing or two from them.

  Of course, he'd never admit that to them. They'd be impossible to live with.

  Not that you're planning to live with them.

  He frowned. No. Of course no—

  "Cole?"

  "Yeah, Squirt?"

  "Can we play Phase 10 with Mom?"

  "Sure thing. But I need to change your mom's bandage first."

  "Yuck. Do I have to help?"

  The squeamish look on Andie's face reminded him of the bucket incident. "No, I'll take care of it." Throw-up was one thing, blood and guts were right up his alley.

  "Here's the first aid kit." Andie turned away as Jenna scooted toward him.

  "Let's get this over with." Jenna gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm not too fond of blood myself."

  Cole worked on Jenna's leg as she lay back on her sleeping bag. The wound was swelling, the skin all puffy and red. And it still oozed blood. Cole's lips tightened. He'd have to get them off this mountain before infection took over.

  "How is it?" Jenna's voice was quiet.

  He considered lying, but knew better. She'd see through that in a heartbeat. "Not great, but it has a fresh bandage." Andie's concern showed in her eyes. Time to shift focus. "Hey, why don't we get all the stuff repacked so we're ready to head out in the morning. We'll play a game or two and then get some sleep, okay?"

  When they finally crawled into their sleeping bags, Cole lay on his back, staring at the snow ceiling. Here's hoping the weather cooperated come morning. Jenna's leg upped the urgency that needled him.

  He had to get them off this mountain.

  ———

  April 10

  Sultana, Denali National Park

  6:42 a.m.

  Movement above his head jolted his mind awake. He jerked himself up, smashing foreheads with Andie. "Ow!" Cole rubbed the collision spot.

  She leaned back on her knees as if nothing happened.

  "Guess not feeling pain can be a good thing, huh?" He groaned as he slid out of his bag.

  "Sure." Andie had a twinkle in her eye. A mischievous one. "Just means I'm tougher than you."

  "Or have a harder head."

  "Good one, Echo." She bounced on her knees.

  "Anxious to get moving?" He laced up his boots.

  Another dramatic sigh. "You have no idea."

  "Oh, I think I have a pretty good inkling." He ruffled her hair with his hand and crawled out the opening.

  Looking over his shoulder, he tossed out, "Wake up your mom and you guys get ready to go."

  Brilliant blue sky met him as he stood outside their shelter of three nights. The air was crisp and clean, the wind light; there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Perfect.

  Within minutes, the girls were beside him, harnesses attached, gear all packed.

  "Are you feeling up to this, Jenna?"

  "Yeah, not perfect, but all right. The warmth of the saa on my face feels amazing."

  "Sun, right?"

  Jenna smiled back at him. "Not bad. You learn quick."

  "Andie, why don't you check the cave one more time for anything we might have left." After she was out of earshot, he took Jenna by the shoulders. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  She tucked her head as if their closeness made her shy. "Yeah. I'm weak, but we've gotta move, right?"

  "No crazy stunts, okay?"

  She laughed.

  He tightened his hold. Then on impulse pulled her into his arms. "Seriously, let me take care of you. Let someone else take the reins for once."

  His words must've hit their mark. She pulled back, gaze darting down, around, and then finally met his eyes. She took a deep breath and patted his chest. "That's easier said than done, Cole."

  His feet were glued to the spot, his arms tightened their hold again. He licked his lips. "Try."

  Her mouth
dropped open and then closed as she wiggled in his arms. Not quite pulling away, but clearly skittish, scared. Jenna looked up at him again and stilled, her hands resting on his chest. "O-Okay."

  This woman did strange things to his heart. Guiding her head to his shoulder, he drew her to him and hugged her. She felt entirely too good in his arms.

  Focus. He needed focus.

  Andie returned and they rigged up in silence. Cole took the lead again, with Andie close behind, and then Jenna. The first couple hundred feet down didn't take too long, and Cole was thankful for the crampons and ice axes that helped anchor them.

  They ate and drank as they descended, not wanting to waste any time, but after a couple of hours, he noticed Jenna slow down. He found a good spot to rest, and allowed them all a few minutes to catch their breath.

  Andie, who had chattered all day in the snow cave, was suspiciously quiet. "Einstein, you haven't said a word since we left this morning. What's up?"

  Her eyes shot to her mom and then back to him. "The snow cave was safe. The blizzard kept the bad guys away." She leaned closer and clung to her mom. "Now that we're back out here, it's scary."

  Jenna hugged her daughter close.

  He had no words to offer. The kid was right. He gave her a simple nod and turned to her mom. "How are you holding up?"

  "I'm tired, and my leg aches, but I can do it." Her breaths were short, like she'd just run a marathon.

  Patting her shoulder, he turned around, squelching the emotions pounding through him. He couldn't fix this. But he desperately wanted to.

  The unmistakable rhythm of chopper blades shattered the quiet of the mountain around them.

  Reflexes kicked in. His eyes darted, checking their surroundings, and waited for the helicopter to show itself. The thwump-thwump-thwump still beat a pattern far away, carried by the wind to their place high up on the mountainside. His only hope: that his instincts were correct and they had been expected to stay lower and head down.

  They stood like statues. He held his breath—and then the chopper rounded the mountain, thousands of feet below them, performing a slow search back and forth.