by C. A. Farlow
The cold pressed in on all sides. Her limbs refused to respond. Panic rose in her throat and she fought to hold her breath. She was going to die. Here in a lake in her own backyard. Not thousands of miles away, not in some jungle, not brought down by some unseen parasite or viral infection, nor shot by terrorists. No, here, in Colorado. She was going to die!
Her brain and body began to shut down as the cold water penetrated through her expedition wear. But a part of her refused to give up, refused to give in to the cold. Oh hell no, not here, not like this. And she started to struggle. Fighting the lethargy in her limbs, Lauren clawed her way to the surface, and gasped for breath. Keep moving. The shore is so close. I can do this. But every effort took monumental focus to complete.
Think, a voice screamed in her head. Use that oversized brain and think. What did she know? I’m close to shore. Shore means shallow water, shallow water means…means what? Thrashing in the water, pushing ice blocks away from her face, Lauren suddenly realized that shallow water meant she should be able to stand up. But could she? She couldn’t feel her legs, and she was so disoriented that she wasn’t sure which way was up. With supreme effort, Lauren got her legs under her, and her feet touched the bottom. Lauren rose from the icy water. She stood shakily in several feet of water, three feet from shore. With the last of her energy, she dragged herself to shore, collapsing beside her sled.
Lauren was in survival mode, acting by rote. Skills drilled into her over years of repetition kicked in. She knew, if she didn’t find shelter soon, and get out of the driving wind, she would die of exposure. Cold, so cold. Trying to rise, Lauren realized her parka and expedition pants were beginning to freeze. Just moving the stiff clothing required energy she didn’t have, but she knew if she didn’t move, she wouldn’t survive.
Lauren turned to her sled. The wind tore at her clothes and ice crystalized on her eyelashes, starting to freeze her eyes shut. She tried to get her sleeping bag loose from the sled but couldn’t get her hands to work. Couldn't get the bungees loose. Move.
From somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, a map of the basin came into focus. Where am I? Caves, there are caves just a bit to the northeast of this lake. Caves equal shelter. Slowly, Lauren grasped the sled harness and began slogging her way to the northeast. Got to keep moving. This was her mantra. Setting one foot in front of the other, she moved slowly toward the dark rock wall in the distance. Each step was becoming more difficult, and less coordinated. Keep moving.
Head down, focusing on her feet, Lauren slammed into the cliff face. Staggering backwards, she dropped to her knees. Caves. She was so cold. Looking along the cliff face, Lauren couldn’t see more than ten or so meters in either direction. Go north. Lauren staggered to the left—to the north. She kept the cliff off her right shoulder, as she searched for the caves.
A darker patch in the cliff wall appeared. Lauren missed it at first and was several meters beyond when something pulled her back. The voice in her mind told her to turn back, to look closer. Lauren pulled the sled to a halt and retraced her steps.
A vertical fissure marred the smooth granite wall. It was just wide enough for Lauren to squeeze through, dragging the sled after her. As she passed into the cliff, Lauren’s body tingled and shook. It was enough to jerk Lauren out of her frozen stupor. Hypothermia.
The crack widened into a small cave. The beam from Lauren’s headlamp swept across the space. How had my headlamp survived the freezing water? But Lauren was beyond reasoning. She needed to get warm. Just being out of the wind seemed to help, and it felt warmer in the cave. Lauren dropped the sled harness and fell to her knees. Got to get warm. Dry. Get the sleeping bag. Got to rest. Rest. Warm then food. Disjointed thoughts tumbled one over another. She clawed at the sled bungees, finally able to release enough of them to free her sleeping bag.
Lauren struggled to get her wet expedition gear off, she needed to get dry. Her polypropylene underlayers were stuck to her skin, and she couldn’t peel them off. Giving up, Lauren wrapped the sleeping bag around her, closing it over her head, desperate to get warm. As her body heat began to accumulate in her down cocoon, she dropped into a dreamless sleep.
Lauren stirred. She didn’t know if it was day or night. Time had lost meaning for her. All she could hear was the howling of the wind. The storm had descended on the basin with all its fury. Her headlamp had dropped off during sleep, and she found it under her bag.
Pulling herself over to the sled, she dug around for her grub bag. She crawled back into her warm down nest. Rifling through the bag, she found trail mix, granola bars, oatmeal mix, and chocolate bars. Lauren’s stiff fingers refused to function and she couldn’t get the wrapper off a granola bar. Her hands were so cold. Too cold. Where are my mittens? An image of the frozen lake surface and the buoy hole returned, she’d taken her mittens off to hook up the buoy’s wiring. Terrific! The trail mix bag proved more cooperative. She roughly tore it open and ate several handfuls.
Dry clothes next. Lauren slipped out of her damp underlayers. She pulled a wool sweater and fleece pants over her damp body. Her hands were blotched white and red. Frostbite. Warm them slowly. Curling into a ball, Lauren huddled in her bag with her hands jammed in her armpits.
As warmth again seeped into her body, Lauren fell back to sleep. Her dreams were chaotic, filled with storm clouds, thunder, driving winds, white outs, and freezing water. Several times she started awake when she felt herself drowning. Awake, all she could hear was howling. Was that just the wind? No. It sounded like wolves howling in the night. But the wolves were only in her dreams. She knew wolves were reintroduced in Yellowstone National Park but hadn’t been seen this far south. Coyotes, yes, it must have been coyotes. Once she thought she felt another warm body snuggled up beside her and fell back asleep to dream of former lovers.
Lauren dreamed she was caught in an avalanche and was suffocating under the weight of snow. Trying to move through the dream-snow, she flung her arms out. She connected with the solid mass of her sled. The cave was shrouded in darkness. Switching on her headlamp, the warm glow of LED light brought her surroundings into focus.
Lauren rose and had her first good look around her cave. Warmer now, she flexed her fingers. Let’s sort out this mess and then see what’s going on outside. Her equipment was strewn around the cave floor. Her outer gear lay in a sodden wet pile. Everything smelled of wet fur. Wet fur? Lauren shook her head.
Beginning with the sled, Lauren removed everything. Pulling the thermo-pad from the bottom of the sled, Lauren placed it down in the back of the cave. She placed her sleeping bag on top of the pad, turning it inside out to dry. Lauren upturned the sled and used that as a drying rack for her outer gear. The watertight cases were next. These contained her handheld GPS unit, her satellite and mobile phones, and her laptop and tablets. Flipping on the phones and GPS unit, she noted that they all showed full-battery indicators but didn’t have a satellite signal. Of course. You’re in a cave. No way for them to see the satellites overhead through solid rock.
The booming voice of Hans, her survival instructor from Global Marine, filled her head. Keep it simple, keep it organized, keep it prioritized. Those that survive, usually do so because they don’t get overwhelmed and panic. One task at a time will help you focus, and prevent panic. Shelter, heat, food, medical needs, location.
Shelter—check. Heat—check. The cave was wind-tight and relatively warm.
Food—check. She had three grub bags of food. Enough nourishment for about two weeks. All that was needed was water to rehydrate the freeze-dried meals, and she had snow outside the cave entrance. She dumped all three bags out to inventory her choices. Right, plenty of food. If you don’t mind dehydrated chili with M&Ms. Lauren’s laughter filled the small cave. God, I’m going to kill Jamie when I get back. I told him I hate chili and to get something else. But it was on sale. We spend hundreds of thousands of dollars designing and building electronic probes and monitoring stations, and all he brings is chili because it
’s on sale. He is definitely going to be dead.
Medical was easier for Lauren. Her full-range medical kit sat next to her sled. Lauren ran a hand lightly over the marred and dented red top. It was like an old friend. Oh the places we’ve been and the things we’ve done. It had saved her life on more than one occasion. Stocked with enough supplies to perform even minor surgical procedures, she could treat anything from headache to compound fracture. Looking at her hand resting on the kit top, Lauren realized that maybe she should be treating herself.
Her fingers were swollen and had a blue and red mottled appearance. The skin was drawn so tight that her fingernails were white at the base, and she couldn’t make a fist. Ok, what are the steps for treating frostbite? Lauren ran through the list of symptoms and treatment options, as she searched for her silk glove liners in her gear bag. She took ibuprofen, amoxicillin, and covered her hands in a triple antibiotic cream before donning the silk liners.
Location—next item on Han’s list. Where am I and can I reach anyone to come and get me? Pulling a fleece jacket over her head and grabbing up the GPS and phones, Lauren headed out the cave entrance. As soon as she rounded the second bend in the fissure, the wind hit her full in the chest, and she staggered back against the granite wall. An all-out blizzard raged in the dull light of day. Lauren couldn’t see two meters in front of her. Checking her watch, Lauren noted that it was just after noon on Saturday. Oh my God, I slept for three days. Jamie’s going to be frantic.
Just like inside the cave, the only response she got from the three devices was “searching for satellites.” Of course, the blizzard’s cloud cover was so dense it could be blocking any signal. She’d try again when the storm abated. Lauren turned back. Looking down, she noticed several large paw prints in the soft sandy floor. Whoa, those are huge. Lauren knelt to examine the prints. Definitely canine, but the size would rule out a dog. Coyote? Perhaps, but it is a big one, the print is several inches deep and four inches across. Other than a wet fur smell, there was no scat or ruminants of past meals on the cave floor. Hope he doesn’t return. This is my house, now. She knew it was bravado but wouldn’t let herself be frightened by what might happen. Tonight, she would sleep with her Swiss Army knife close at hand.
Lauren returned to the calm, warm interior of ‘her’ cave, and made a meal of chili. She washed it all down with a mug of herbal tea heavily-laced with honey. With her snug cave organized, food in her stomach, her frostbite treated, Lauren settled down to rest. Rest was going to be as important as calories for survival.
Chapter Seven
THE SMELL OF WET fur and warm breath ghosting across her face brought Lauren out of her dream. Rolling over, she yawned, filling her mouth with damp fur. A large white dog slept next to her, jerking fully awake she screamed.
“What?” The sound reverberated in the small cave. Lauren untangled herself from the depths of her sleeping bag and tried to get away from the dog. No, not a dog…a wolf!
Ice blue eyes regarded her with interest. Lauren grabbed her knife and crabbed over to the far side of the cave. The wolf seemed to smirk at her antics. Now what am I going to do? She was now trapped against the granite wall and couldn’t make it to the exit. The wolf watched her. I am so screwed here.
With a huge yawn that showed all its teeth, the wolf rose to sit on its haunches. It wrapped its tail elegantly around its legs, and regarded Lauren with an intelligent but stoic gaze. Lauren’s panic began to settle. Sitting still, it looked like a big, white-ruffed dog. But she’d never seen a dog with such cold blue eyes.
Lauren pointed her knife at the creature and stuttered, “Be a good girl. Be a good girl, and I’ll give you some trail mix.” That’s just great. Wolves don’t eat trail mix. They eat meat. And I’m going to be dinner. Had she just called the wolf, a she? How’d I know that? But thinking of the wolf as a female seemed to make it easier for her to calm down.
As the wolf tilted her head, Lauren felt her panic continue to recede. The wolf’s ice blue gaze cut straight through her, but she wasn’t exhibiting any aggressive behaviors. Had she insulted the wolf? Could you insult a wolf?
“If you aren’t a girl, I’m sorry,” Lauren whispered, thinking herself crazy.
The wolf seemed to smile. She slowly dropped down, to lie sphinxlike on Lauren’s thermo-pad. Lauren jerked, as she heard a gravelly female voice. “I am a girl.”
“Who said that?” Lauren frantically looked around the cave. I’ve lost my mind. I’ve got terminal frostbite and I’m hallucinating. Or I’ve died and this is my brain shutting-down from oxygen-deprivation. She couldn’t rationalize having a conversation with a wolf, she just couldn’t.
The wolf cocked her head. “I spoke to you. I am speaking to you.”
Fear again filled Lauren’s throat and nearly stopped her heart. She pointed her knife at the reclining wolf. “No, you are not! Wolves don’t speak. I’m dying or dead.”
“You are not dead. I am speaking to your mind from my mind. And I can, and do, speak. I am Sneachda, but you may call me Snow, Lauren.”
Just as Snow finished introducing herself, Lauren brain stuttered to a halt. She stopped trying to rationalize the situation. Her vision tunneled. “I am not speaking to a wolf.”
“You do not need to shout. I can hear your thoughts as easily as I can hear your vocalizations. My hearing is very acute.”
Lauren struggled to push her panic away as another white wolf strolled into the cave, shaking snow from her thick coat. This is not real. The appearance of the second wolf was too much for Lauren to process, and she slid into unconsciousness.
A wet rasp was dragged across Lauren’s face. “Stop it, Boscoe.” Lauren pushed the head away. “I’m awake, just give me a minute here. I don’t need my face cleaned first thing in the morning.”
Opening her eyes, Lauren blinked up into ice blue eyes, but Boscoe had brown eyes. Didn’t he? Her surroundings snapped back into sharp relief, as the wolf leaned down for another tongue swipe. “No, stop it! I’m awake!”
“Lauren?” The gravelly voice echoed in her mind.
“Yeah, I’m awake.”
“I am Deigh, you can call me—”
“Ice. I can call you Ice.” Somehow, someway, Lauren knew her name. How do I know that?
The wolf slowly backed up. She moved to lie across the cave entrance. “How do I know your name? Why are you here? How can I talk to you? How can you talk to me? What’s going on?” Questions tumbled one over the other, as Lauren sought information to understand.
Nothing was forthcoming from the stoic Ice, so Lauren gave up questioning the beast. She moved over to her food bags to prepare another meal, her hunger outweighing the need to rationalize a wolf in her cave. Especially, a wolf she was having a conversation with. Whether this is all a hallucination or not, I still need to eat.
This game of watching each other went on for the remainder of the day. They didn’t speak to each other nor was she allowed to exit her cave. On the second day, Lauren approached Ice. “I need to go out and check the storm. If I can get a satellite signal, I need to contact someone and tell them where I am.”
Slowly Ice rose and arched her back, stretching like a well-mannered house cat after a long nap. “Very well.”
Pulling on her parka and her inner boots, Lauren moved through the fissure to exit the cave. What greeted Lauren was a world completely altered by the blizzard. Snow was piled in towering ridges, odd cornices, and crescent dunes. Between the dunes, bare ground was visible, evidence of how powerful the winds were, as the storm scoured the landscape. A black sky filled with stars arched over Lauren’s head. The Milky Way formed a wide gauzy swatch across the southern portion of the sky.
“Clear skies. Should get a good signal,” Lauren whispered, her voice loud in the quiet of this surreal winter landscape.
The words "searching for satellites” blinked up at her from the screen of her GPS. She gave the device a good shake. “What is it with this thing? I can almost see the satelli
tes myself, and you can’t find a signal.” Pulling the sat phone from her pocket, Lauren flipped it open, but it blinked with the same message.
“That’s impossible,” Lauren shouted. Returning to the cave, Lauren grabbed her gearbox and dug out her analog compass, muttering, “This doesn’t need batteries, just the magnetic field of the Earth. I can at least triangulate off the mountain peaks and plot my position on my topographic map.” How old-school. She chuckled. The needle slowly swept across the brass compass face, coming to rest pointing north. Lauren turned in that direction. “Hang-on a second. That’s south!”
Puzzled, Lauren scratched her head and reviewed their trek into the lake basin. They entered the basin over the southern rim. Therefore, the basin and its lakes were always north of their campsite position. She could see Gilpin Lake sparkling in the distance from here. Maybe she got turned around during the storm and traversed across the basin to the south instead of to the north. But there aren’t caves in the southern basin wall. What’s going on here? How else can I find where I am? Astronomical position?
Looking up at the stars, Lauren searched for Polaris, the North Star. During the course of the night, she knew that Polaris didn’t rise or set but remained in a nearly stationary position above the Earth’s geographic North Pole, while the other stars rotated around it on the celestial sphere. Find the Big Dipper. Trace a line between the stars that make up the bowl of the dipper. That line will point to Polaris. She could almost feel her grandfather pointing over her shoulder up into the night sky.
She easily found the Big Dipper. She traced her line away from the bowl, but it ended in a blank spot of black sky. What the? The only star near where the North Star should be was way too bright to be Polaris. That has to be a planet. Lauren retraced her line but again found only blank sky and that one bright star. Unable to determine where she was, Lauren surrendered and went back into her cave. Ice rested on Lauren’s thermo-pad.
