“Yeah, city boy,” I said with a chuckle. “I mean an animal, or maybe some fish if we can find a river.”
“What about the avalanche death zone?”
I poked the fire with a stick, which sent a tiny explosion of sparks floating upward. “The worst time is twelve to forty-eight hours after a heavy snowfall, so we should be fine.”
Aaron stared at the fire and said nothing for a long moment, then at last he regarded me steadily. “Shouldn’t we stay here in case a rescue plane comes?”
I didn’t want to say anything, but my hopes for a gallant rescue from the sky had been dwindling since day three, and I was getting hungrier by the minute. Sure, we had ice to melt for water, but we couldn’t survive on just that. Heaven only knew how long it could be before we got out of there. We had to start fending for ourselves.
“The tent will be here,” I said. “If there’s a plane, they’ll spot it. We’ll leave a note about where we went.”
Aaron nodded and gazed back toward the tent. “Somehow I doubt you have a fishing rod in that backpack treasure chest of yours. Or a shotgun, for that matter. I suppose you have a plan?”
I didn’t—not exactly—but I wasn’t about to tell Aaron that. I just hoped I’d come up with something by morning.
Chapter Fourteen
“Holy crap,” Aaron said. “What kind of fish is that?”
“I think it’s a trout,” I replied, “but it’s not going to be easy to catch.”
We stood on the snowy bank of a wide brook, staring down at the clear water that flowed swiftly by.
“Maybe we should try for a rabbit or a squirrel,” Aaron suggested. “Less chance of going for a swim.”
I glanced down at my climbing boots, then took a gander at Aaron’s. “You’re probably right.”
Turning away from the water, we ventured back into the woods.
o0o
For the greater part of the day, we wandered about in the valley, keeping an eye out for tracks in the snow that might lead us to something with protein, but the trout was the most exciting thing we encountered outside of squirrels.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry before,” Aaron said as we stopped by a grove of white birch trees with no leaves on them. “It feels like someone’s clawing at the inside of my stomach.”
I stopped to rest and catch my breath. “Me, too. I can’t stop thinking about a juicy steak I had over Christmas. It was perfectly seared and served with a thick peppercorn sauce. Garlic mashed potatoes.”
“Stop,” Aaron said, holding up a hand. “You’re killing me.”
We started moving again.
“Let’s think about this,” I said as I trudged through the snow. “That trout we saw was resting in an eddy, just downstream from a narrow section in the brook. If we can fashion some sort of spear—maybe lash my knife to the end of a stick—we could probably catch one tomorrow.”
“We shouldn’t risk losing your knife,” Aaron replied. “It’s the only one we have.”
I considered this and decided he was right, but there had to be a way. I stopped and looked around.
“Let’s keep our eye out for a couple of saplings and cut them down, take them with us. Tonight we can strip the bark and sharpen the ends.”
I scanned the woods for something suitable. Then Aaron hit me in the arm.
“Seth…look,” he whispered.
I turned to see a white rabbit—actually it was probably an Arctic hare—hopping into a tangle of snowy underbrush.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “Come on!”
We both took off running.
o0o
“Here are the tracks,” Aaron said, panting heavily as he pointed down at the snow. “He’s heading that way.”
As we moved stealthily through the trees, I slid my knife out of its sheath, ready to fling it through the air if we spotted the hare again.
We continued for more than half an hour, but lost the trail somewhere in a thicket of young spruce. By that time the sun was low in the sky.
“We’re not going to catch him,” I said, re-sheathing my knife. “We should head back to camp.”
Only then did I realize I hadn’t taken a compass reading in a while, and I didn’t know which way we had come. I considered following our tracks back but that was going to be impossible in the darkness and for all I knew, we might have just run in a big circle. I looked around in all directions while Aaron watched me intently.
“Are we lost?” he asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.
“Not lost,” I replied, digging out my compass. “I’m just not sure how far we traveled. Let me get a reading.” I wiped the perspiration from my brow and turned my body to the left. “North is that way,” I said, “so rather than follow our tracks back and risk going in a circle, we should travel in a straight line in this direction until we reach the base of the mountain.”
“You’re sure?” Aaron asked, regarding me with uncertainty.
“Yeah, let’s go. It’ll be dark soon.”
I pushed past him and struggled to ignore the grumbling sensation in my stomach as I searched for a landmark to guide us.
o0o
I have no idea how far we traveled after I took that first reading, but we never did reach the base of the mountain, nor was there any visual sign of it from where we stood. I figured we must have roamed the entire length of the valley until we came out at one end.
Which end, I had no idea. It was overcast, so I couldn’t even see the North Star.
“We’re going to have to stop here and set up camp for the night,” I said. “There’s no point wandering around in the dark. We’ll find our way back in the morning.”
To Aaron’s credit, he didn’t openly question my decision or lay blame for our situation, but I knew he was frustrated. I was, too.
“The temperature’s dropping fast,” he said. “Let’s look for shelter. There’s a tree over there with low-hanging branches. What about that?”
We went to check it out. I decided it was as good a place as any because the branches touched the ground. They would form sloping walls around us.
“There’s not much space under there,” Aaron said.
“That’s okay,” I replied. “The smaller the better because it’ll be easier to trap the warm air. Let’s get a fire going.” I turned to face Aaron. “You go and gather some fuel and I’ll cut some boughs from other trees to use as bedding. But don’t go too far. Make sure to keep me in sight and whistle if you get disoriented.”
“I’ll be fine,” Aaron said as he trudged off.
I immediately got busy snapping off low-hanging limbs from nearby evergreens.
By this time, my toes were growing numb from the cold and it was getting harder to feel confident about this situation. I was starving and had no idea where we were. I didn’t have a single clue—yet I was stuck playing the leader with a guy who didn’t know the first thing about surviving in the outdoors.
As I hacked away at the trees with my ax, I wondered irritably if I would have been better off on my own, without having to keep an eye on Aaron. He was slowing me down and supplies were dwindling. I hated having to explain things to him—why this and not that.
Jesus. Five days. They should have come for us by now.
Aaron would freak out if he knew the doubts that were playing around in my head.
Seriously. I couldn’t take much more of this.
Resolving to stay focused on my task, I returned to our tree shelter and dropped an armful of branches onto the snow. It was pitch black inside, so I opened my pack and found my flashlight. I turned it on, then I laid the boughs out as thickly as possible.
God, my feet were freezing. We needed fire. Soon. Where the hell was Aaron?
Emerging from the shelter with my flashlight, I squinted though the darkness. I shone the beam up at the treetops and noticed a light snow beginning to fall.
Great. Just what we need.
Again, I swung
the beam of light around the dense forest.
“Aaron!” I called out.
I heard no reply, so I closed my eyes and listened.
Nothing seemed to be out there but the hush of the wilderness.
The sub-zero chill seeped into my bones. When I breathed, I felt a burning sensation in my lungs.
The temperature was dropping fast.
None of this felt right.
“Aaron!” I called out again. “Where are you?”
My heart began to race. It hadn’t been that long since he left. He couldn’t have traveled far.
Then suddenly—a noise. Heavy, reckless footfalls growing closer. Twigs snapping. A shadowy burst of movement caught my eye.
Thank God it was Aaron.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, adrenaline flooding my veins.
He skidded to a halt. “I saw something. A pair of eyes. It might have been a wolf, but it looked more like a cat. A lynx, maybe. He was big.”
I strode forward to shine a beam of light across the surrounding the area. “Where?”
He pointed. “About twenty yards away. That direction. He was just huddled in the bush, staring at me like I was something good to eat.”
I saw nothing in the gloomy depths, so I turned and strode back to where Aaron stood in front of our shelter. “The fire should keep him away. Let’s hurry and get it lit. I’m freezing.”
“Me, too,” he said, dropping the wood onto the snow.
Chapter Fifteen
It wasn’t easy to get the fire going. First we had to dig down to the bare ground, but the heat from the flames kept melting the ice that was interlaced with the frozen earth. Eventually it evaporated into the fire which sizzled, sputtered and finally went out.
We used five matches to relight it. I only had six left in my pack.
Aaron asked if I knew how to light a fire without matches, and I tried to explain how to do it. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, however.
“Maybe we’ll get rescued tomorrow,” I said to him, knowing full well that the odds of our being rescued now were slim at best. No one was coming for us. We were in for it now, up to our ears in shrinking chances of survival. I was seriously starting to lose it.
And I was pissed about missing the climb with George Atherton. I’d wanted to be part of that documentary.
Were they filming now? I wondered. Or were they waiting for us?
After about an hour, the wind picked up, so we had no choice but to kick snow onto the fire and retreat into the shelter.
I tried to sleep but couldn’t. All my senses were highly tuned as I listened for the lynx. Or something worse.
This was nuts. I’d had enough of being stranded. I didn’t want to be here. Stuck with Aaron.
And for how much longer?
All I wanted was to be somewhere else.
Chapter Sixteen
It was past midnight, and there I sat with my flashlight, awake in the tree shelter, writing like crazy in my journal with no idea what would happen next. I wasn’t even sure if we’d be alive in the morning.
I was still uneasy about the lynx Aaron saw. I couldn’t help but imagine he was out there somewhere in the darkness, waiting to pounce.
Cats are like that. They’re patient. They’ll sit for hours watching their prey.
The storm worsened. Time passed slowly while the branches blew around and dumped snow on us every hour or so.
Aaron began to shiver uncontrollably and I was worried about him. I’d seen severe cases of hypothermia before and I prayed we wouldn’t reach that point.
I thought about lighting a fire inside the shelter but I was concerned about ventilation and carbon monoxide poisoning and basically burning the whole tree down around us.
Although a blaze like that would make a great signal fire. I just wasn’t sure there would be anyone to see it. I felt like we might as well be on the moon.
So I just kept sitting there. Listening to the wind. Listening for the lynx.
Thinking.
My hands got really cold. Numb and stiff. I could barely hold the pen. I didn’t think I could write any more.
I inspected my handwriting. It was pretty bad, and I knew I should try to conserve the flashlight battery.
I decided to continue writing after we got back to camp.
God willing.
I said another prayer.
Aaron
Chapter Seventeen
After Seth and I got lost chasing the hare and spent the night under the tree in the storm, he couldn’t write anymore, but he asked me to continue telling the story where he left off.
He said it helped pass the time, and I get that. Keeping a journal is a good distraction. It keeps the mind limber—so to speak.
o0o
That night, the snow continued to fall for hours, and the wind blew without mercy. It was freezing in our so-called “shelter,” which dumped snow all over us every time the branches gave way to the weight. I shivered so badly I barely slept. All I could do was curl up in a tight ball to conserve my core body heat and pray for morning to come quickly.
I have no idea what time it was when those quiet hours of darkness exploded into total panic and chaos. I hadn’t exactly been sleeping, but I must have been dozing because I don’t remember any warning signs, no buildup to the moment when I woke to the sound of Seth screaming.
Suddenly, before I could think straight, I was wrestling with a growling, fanged creature with sharp claws—a monster that seemed to have the strength of ten men.
It all happened in a blur. The lynx must have been waiting for hours, crouched outside in the blizzard, primed to pounce, which he did with lightning speed and astonishing force. He shot through our flimsy wall of pine branches and leaped onto Seth, clawed at his face, then punctured his shoulder and arm with his teeth.
I’m not sure how long the attack lasted. It must have been only a few seconds, otherwise Seth’s injuries would have been far worse.
All I remember is the blinding shock and natural instinct that drove me to grab hold of the cat and swing an ax through the air.
I must have clubbed it in the head because it screeched like the devil and flew out of the shelter.
o0o
“Aaron…are you okay?”
It was Seth asking me the question.
Strangely…as I became aware that he was speaking to me, I realized I was standing outside in the blizzard, barely conscious of the ice pellets striking my face.
I have no memory of leaving the shelter. When I looked down, I was gripping the yellow ax handle tightly in my hand. There was some blood on the tip.
It all sounds very heroic, I suppose, but in fact, I was paralyzed with fear. Terror burned through my bloodstream and rushed to my head. It’s a wonder I didn’t pass out.
“He’s gone,” Seth said, wiping a glove across his cheek. “We scared him away.”
I turned to look at Seth but it was dark. I couldn’t see the scratches on his face or the puncture wounds and rips on his jacket. I didn’t see any of that until the next morning.
Even then, I was in another place. I barely remember noticing. At least not until much later.
o0o
A strange, low hum woke me at dawn. At first I thought I was dreaming. I remember the sensation of floating. I wanted to float all the way to the sky.
Then the sound grew louder in my ears until my mind latched onto reality and I remembered where I was—lying on a bed of pine boughs under a snow-covered tree.
Lost.
Somewhere in the Canadian wilderness.
Almost certainly hypothermic.
My eyes flew open. “Seth. Do you hear that?”
I shook him awake and tried to crawl out of the shelter. As I pushed my way sluggishly through the evergreen branches, more snow fell on me and I felt the icy shock of it slide down the back of my neck. “It’s a plane.”
I rose heavily to my feet and looked to the sky, but the treetops obscured my view. I could o
nly hear it… The distant, low drone of an engine and propellers somewhere above us, growing closer.
Seth emerged from the shelter. “Which way?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But they’ll never see us here. We have to find a clearing.”
Without waiting to discuss it, I took off in a desperate, stumbling push through the forest, my movements slow and labored.
My body was unbelievably numb.
It wouldn’t do what I wanted it to do.
Seth followed. He called my name, but I couldn’t stop, not when a search plane had finally come for us. I had to find a way out of the woods to catch it. To signal it, somehow.
I followed the sound of the engine until I saw—not far ahead, just beyond a grove of leafless aspens—a wide-open space.
As I staggered out of a thicket onto the snow-covered field, I tore my sleeve on prickly thorns. But it didn’t matter…
There it was! Just over there! Flying low to the ground!
Flying away.
Sprinting as fast as my legs would carry me, I chased the plane and frantically waved my arms over my head.
“Stop!” I yelled again. “Over here!”
The plane flew toward a mountain in the distance.
“Come back!” I stopped and jumped up and down, beckoning to the plane like some kind of lunatic. “We’re here!”
Its wing dipped, then it veered sharply to the right around a high ridge and disappeared from view.
The sound of the engine grew faint. All I could do was stand there, immobile, breathing hard and staring after it, listening to the sound of the propellers until I couldn’t hear them anymore. Until there was nothing left but my thunderous heartbeat in my ears, drowning out the silence of the wilderness.
Come back. Please come back. We’re alive.
A squirrel chattered at the edge of the forest.
The sound of Seth’s heavy footsteps across the snow caused me to turn.
“Did you see it?” he asked, stopping to bend over with his hands on his knees, panting heavily.
Only then did I notice the bloody scratch marks on his face and the slashes and tears on his jacket.
The Color of Love Page 4
