by C. A. Farlow
“Would you mind getting off that? I don’t want to smell wet dog all night.” Lauren grabbed a granola bar and eyed the large wolf.
With a huff and a wolfy-snort, Ice rose from the pad and stalked from the cave.
“I’m only fifteen miles from the trailhead. Tomorrow morning I’ll pack up and head there. Once I find the road, I can ski into the town of Clark and call Susan and Sharon from the General Store.” Comfortable with her plan, Lauren rolled up in her sleeping bag and dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep.
She woke early and ate a hearty breakfast of trail mix and chili. Chili for breakfast, she was definitely killing Jamie. Lauren packed her sled and headed out of the cave’s fissure into a brilliant white wonderland.
Donning her dark glasses, Lauren pulled her compass out of the chest pocket of her parka. The compass needle still pointed in the direction Lauren knew was south. And now that she could see the sun, her internal compass was correct. The direction the arrow pointed was south. Well, I guess this is the last trip for this compass. She would put in a place of honor on her mantle in the loft with other things her grandfather had left her.
Lauren soon discovered that skiing was easier than snowshoeing. The snow was frozen solid and so wind-scoured that it held her and the sled’s weight. She traveled in a direct line toward the south rim of the basin and the Slavonia trail.
Once on the valley floor, Lauren’s pace picked up. The drifts were smaller and spaced farther apart here. Looking around, she realized she couldn’t see the elk herd. That storm must’ve cleared them out to lower altitude. I hope Jamie made it out, and back to civilization without any trouble. Thoughts of Jamie pulled at her heart. Lauren knew Jamie would never stop looking for her and fully expected to see his head pop up over the next line of drifts, or at least be waiting at the trailhead. He'd never stop searching for her. And, neither would Susan and Sharon. They’d be frantic. Those two would mobilize as many resources as needed to find her. She knew they wouldn't rest until the search was successful. An image of a search and rescue party led by Susan and a team of barking Corgis sprang to mind. Lauren’s laughter filled the basin with sound.
The south rim of the basin soon rose above her. Now that I’m here…where is the trail out? Lauren traveled slowly along the ridge, knowing that the blizzard had drastically altered the landscape. She could easily walk past the trail. If it was buried under a snow bank, she’d never see it.
Four hours later and still nothing, Lauren sighed. Not a trail marker, not a track nor sign of human visitation, no animal tracks. Looking up, she realized that there weren’t any jet contrails from aircraft traffic overhead either. Nothing. Night was fast approaching, and she didn’t want to be out after dark. She was going to have to find the trail soon or return to her cave. The nighttime temperatures would fall well below zero with these clear skies. She knew her hands wouldn’t tolerate another dose of cold without exacerbating her frostbite. So she decided to take one more pass along the ridge before heading back to the cave. Turning her sled to make her final traverse along the ridge, she stepped into a hole and caught her ski edge, tumbling to the ground.
Picking herself up, she saw what had tripped her. “What’s this?” Dropping to her knees, Lauren looked at the depression in the snow. It looked like a hoof print? This has got to be a horse. But the print was huge. Maybe a draft horse got loose from one of the ranches around Clark. Looking around she saw that this wasn’t an isolated print. A trail of prints led off to the north back into the trees in the center of the basin. This was the first sign of civilization that she’d found, so Lauren followed the line of prints.
The print trail led Lauren deep into the forest where the fir trees blocked the waning light of the setting sun. Soon the trees began to thin. Lauren entered a grove of trees, the pungent aroma of fresh cedar filled the air. Lauren smiled, remembering her grandfather’s aromatic closet. Still trapped in old memories, Lauren didn’t realize she had cleared the trees until the reflection of the afternoon sun off the snow nearly blinded her.
There in the center of the clearing was the horse. Tall and massively muscled, it stood facing west. The setting sun shimmered off its ebony coat. Four feathered white socks rivaled the snow in brightness. But the horse wasn’t alone; a body was draped across its back, slumped in the saddle.
The rider’s black cloak trailed the ground beneath the horse on the left side. His right arm dangled limply along the horse’s shoulder, as if reaching for the ground. Frozen in motion, the rider appeared to be falling out of the saddle. But it was the red stalactite stretching from the rider’s fingertips down into a red ice puddle that captured Lauren’s attention.
Too much blood, even diluted in the snow. It’s too much blood to lose. Setting the sled brake and removing her harness, Lauren circled the horse so she could approach it from the front. Once the horse noticed her, he swung his massive head around. Two black pools of longing and pain held her gaze.
“Easy there, big fellow. I’m here to help. Just let me see to your rider. I promise I won’t hurt you.” She slowly raised one hand to the horse’s head. Stroking his long nose, Lauren cooed reassurances in a low tone.
As she slid her hand down his neck, he buried his nose into her shoulder and blew warm exhalations into her fleece jacket. “There now, it’s going to be okay. I promise.” Lauren continued to scratch his nose. “That’s a good fellow. Now let’s see if we can help your rider, shall we?”
Keeping a hand on a warm shoulder, Lauren moved to the right side. Just as she reached out to begin her examination of the rider, she noticed movement in the tree line. Flashes of white were circling the clearing. The shoulder beneath her hand began to tremble. So the horse sees them, too. I'm not hallucinating. They’re real.
“Easy, easy big fellow. It’s okay. It’s just Ice and Snow. They’re friends of mine,” Lauren whispered. “I hope.” When Ice and Snow had changed from hallucinations to friends Lauren didn't know, but now was not the time to dwell on talking wolves.
“Let’s see to your rider. I’ll look after him while you keep an eye on them, okay?”
Lauren ran her hand up the rider’s arm to the neck, searching for a pulse. It was weak and thready—shock, probably due to blood loss and exposure. Time was of the essence. She rubbed the horse’s shoulder again. “How long have you been standing here? Awhile, I bet. Frost is starting to form on your flanks. We’ll get you warm, soon.”
The horse was taller than she at the shoulder and getting the rider down was going to be a challenge. Lauren guessed the rider stood more than six and a half feet tall. And he probably outweighed her by a hundred or more pounds.
“What to do?” Talking aloud always helped Lauren reason a problem out. “I won’t be able to move him easily once he is on the ground, so I should try and get him directly from the horse onto the sled. If I rolled him off the right side, I should be able to control his slide into the sled.”
Lauren looked back at the horse. “Ok, fellow, here’s the plan. I’ll empty the sled and move it up beside you. Then I’ll slide your rider off and into the sled in one motion.” She patted the trembling shoulder under her hand. “I can’t see where he's injured while he’s on your back. Where are Snow and Ice?” Somewhere close, that much she knew, she could feel their eyes on her.
Raising his head, the horse seemed to make a pointing motion with his head. Looking off to the west, Lauren saw the wolves, silhouettes outlined in the setting sun. Their white coats glowed, but Lauren couldn’t see their faces. “Still keeping their distance. Good.”
Lauren maneuvered the sled alongside the horse and emptied its contents into a pile. She placed her medical kit next to the sled. “All right now, hold still.”
Lauren walked around the front of the horse, giving his nose a rub, before stopping along the left stirrup. She pulled the rider’s boot from the stirrup and made sure the cloak and other articles of clothing wouldn’t catch on the saddle.
Lauren returned to
the right side. “Here goes!” Straddling the sled, Lauren reached up and grabbed the rider’s shoulders. Lauren tried a steady pull but his body didn’t budge. Tugging harder, the rider’s weight shifted suddenly, and he slid toward her. She collapsed into the sled as the full weight of the rider landed on top of her. Air was pushed out of her lungs by his weight, and she struggled to breathe. She couldn’t push the rider off her. She wiggled an arm free and grasped the edge of the sled, using that as leverage, she was gradually able to work her body out from under the rider.
Once she was out, she huddled on her knees in the snow, gasping for breath. Lauren was covered in blood. Get it together. You’re his only help for miles. You can do this. Her internal pep talk reenergized her, and she stood on relatively stable legs. The horse had turned and nuzzled the rider’s head.
“Back off there. Let’s see where the injury is and get this bleeding under control.” Lauren pulled back the twisted cloak and stared at the injury to the rider’s upper chest. The shoulder was a torn mass of burnt and blackened tissue. Bone fragments stuck out at odd angles from his shattered clavicle. Red bubbles rose out of the wound with each exhalation.
“Terrific.” Lauren quickly realized just how severe his injuries were. “I’ve gotta stop the bleeding. Stabilize the arm and shoulder. Determine if the chest cavity is breached and his lung collapsed.”
As Lauren worked on the rider, she lost touch with her surroundings. Her focus narrowed to just her patient and his injuries. After pulling on a pair of sterile gloves, she covered the wound with a pressure bandage. She tore strips from the saddle blanket and immobilized the damaged shoulder. She started an intravenous drip of Lactated Ringers solution, which should begin to replace some of his lost fluids and electrolytes. Hopefully, this would raise his blood pressure a bit. She listened to his breathing with her stethoscope and gritted her teeth. One of his lungs had collapsed—pneumothorax.
Standing, Lauren knew that was all she could do out here. She needed to get him to shelter and out of the cold. Then she would remove the remainder of the clothing and look for other injuries. Turning to the horse, she asked, “Now, it's your turn. You’re going to have to pull the sled. Can you do that?”
The horse replied with a whiffled snort and a nod of its head. Lauren staggered back at seeing the wolves beneath the horse’s legs. “What are you two doing? Get out of here.” Waving her arms, she tried to shoo the wolves away. But they just looked at Lauren and smiled their wolfy grins.
“Lauren.” Snow’s voice filled her head. “We will help you transport the rider and break trail for the horse.” A snort billowed in steamy clouds from the horse as if he heard Snow’s comments and disagreed that he needed help.
Exhausted, hungry, and worried for the rider, Lauren just gave up. “Lead on then. We need to get back there before dark. I’ve more work to do to save his life and even then I don’t know that I can.”
A deep female voice filled her head. “We know you will do your best, Lauren. And by the way, I am a girl, too. My name is Ffrwyn.”
Gasping at this new mind-voice, Lauren shook her head and stared at the horse. “I will do my best, Ffrwyn. But we need to get moving.” I’m exhausted and none of this is probably real anyway, so just go with it. Pinching her arm to test if she was awake, Lauren yelped. Or maybe I am awake, and then who knows what’s happening to me.
Lauren secured the sled to the saddle. She piled her gear around the rider as best as she could and strapped the rest of the gear boxes on to the saddle. As she tightened the last bungee cord, she noticed a sword beneath the saddle bag. It looked like a large two handed broadsword. Lauren had seen swords of this construct in the British Museum. What held her attention was the large sapphire embedded in its pommel, above the leather-wrapped hilt. The stone caught the last rays of the setting sun and throbbed with a pulse-like beat. It seemed almost alive. “Ok, Ffrwyn, here we go. I know the load is heavy but it’s not far back to the cave.”
But the horse didn't move. Turning her head towards Lauren, Ffrwyn stated, “I think you will need your gloves and the rest of the supplies once we get back to the cave.”
Looking around, she realized that she had left a pile of medical supplies and her outer gloves in the snow. Grumbling, she loaded the medical items back in the sled and pulled on her gloves. “Right.” The trip back to the cave was completed quickly. Lauren hung on to the right stirrup to keep herself upright. She knew if she stopped moving she might fall and not be able to get up. The horse slowed and stopped. Lauren looked up and realized that they were back at the cliff wall. The fissure opened before her.
“Nothing like home,” Lauren muttered as they arrived at the cave entrance and headed inside. It was a tight fit with Lauren, the rider, her sled, two wolves, and the horse. Lauren huffed out a breath. “Look, guys, we gotta set some ground rules. There isn’t room for all of us in here. Take turns staying outside or something. But I need room to care for the rider and check him for any other injuries." If the animal companions were going to be around, she might as well accept them and move on. But the rider was her first priority.
Lauren turned to the task of removing his clothes. Large bandage scissors in hand, Lauren began to cut away his garments. But the scissors proved ineffective. They simply wouldn't cut through the black cloth or underlying liner.
“Well, we'll have to remove it the hard way.” Lauren sighed as she loosened all the fasteners she could find. She peeled layers away one at a time—the heavy wool cloak, the outer coat of light wool, the silk-like under layer. She rocked back on her heels. Under these three layers was a metallic mesh, with a matte finish, a black so dark it seemed to absorb light. No wonder the rider weighed so much. This metallic material must cover his entire body. Continuing her search to find a way to remove the mesh layer, Lauren found a seam running up the left side of his body from hip to shoulder. Pulling on the seam, Lauren attempted to separate the two parts, but it wouldn’t open.
Lauren moved to his head. If I can’t get the body layer off, I’ll check for face and neck injuries. She removed a woolen hood and tossed it aside. The next layer, a form-fitted cap, was made of the same black mesh as the body-layer but had a finer texture. The cap had a translucent shield that covered the rider’s face from the hairline to beneath his chin. It fit so closely Lauren wondered how the rider was able to breathe. The shield fluttered. Expanding and contracting with each breath. Ah, it must be a pneumatic membrane, interesting. Lauren couldn't find any seams, fasteners, or breaks in the texture of the mesh cap to allow her to remove them. The rider groaned.
Frustrated, Lauren huffed, “I’ve gotta get this off now.”
Snow came into the cave and sat down beside the rider's head. With a motion as delicate as the falling flakes that made up her name, the wolf touched a large paw to a spot below the rider's right ear. With a small twist, a seam appeared and fell open.
"How?"
"This is just a matter of experience. The tunic will open in much the same way. Press on the top of the seam under the left arm and twist to the right. The seam will open and you will be able to remove it. But be careful, the tunic is providing positive life energy, and I would not remove it too quickly." Snow sat back.
"Right, of course you do. And of course it does. And I’m Alice and somewhere in that blasted blizzard, I fell down the proverbial rabbit hole and landed in Wonderland." With a scoff Lauren carefully removed the face shield and cap.
And then she knew she was in Wonderland and ready to set the tea table for the Mad Hatter, because looking up at her from under the face shield were ice blue eyes—exactly the same color Snow and Ice had. An aquiline nose and perfect lips made up the rest of the heart-shaped face. Only the streak of dried blood that ran from the corner of the mouth and disappeared under the chin marred the perfect face. But neither the blood nor the deeply etched lines of pain could alter the soft features of this woman.
Lauren reeled back. "Oh my god, who are you?”
&nb
sp; Look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see, and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious.
Stephen Hawking
Part II – The Journey
Chapter One
LAUREN HEARD, “CÉ MISE? Cé go bhfuil tú?” But in her head Ice’s voice echoed over the sound, “Who am I? Who are you?”
“I’m Lauren. You’re injured. Please try and stay still.”
Struggling to sit up the woman gasped. “Níor chóir duit a bheith anseo, ba chóir aon duine!” “You shouldn’t be here. No one should!”
Lauren realized Ice was providing a simultaneous translation. Did the wolves know this woman? Are they related somehow?
Turning to Ice and Snow, Lauren pleaded, “You’ve gotta make her stay still. Any motion could increase her bleeding.”
Lauren watched as Snow approached the injured woman, staring intently into her eyes. Lauren could almost see the silent communication occurring. Snow’s gravel-voice rang in Lauren’s head. “She will be quiet, but she is confused and is trying to understand what happened.”
She’s not the only one. “Let her know that I found her, injured and unconscious. I couldn't treat her injuries while she was on her horse, so we moved her back to my cave.”
Never taking her eyes from the woman, Snow huffed a puff of steam into the cool air.
Ice crawled up beside Lauren and nosed her hand. Lauren looked down. “You have to calm down, too. We are here to help you and help Alex. Until you both learn to communicate directly, we will let you know what the other is saying. But eventually you will understand her without our help.”
Lauren frowned. “Her name is Alex?”
“Well, her full name is Alexandra Aoeron Aonwyn nighean mhic Fionnaghal, Rigain Rìoghachd Fuar Ćala. But that’s quite a mouthful, so we just call her Alex.”
