by Karen Swan
‘No!’
She heard Anders shout from her left but she didn’t see anything – her ankle was twisting as the stone rolled, throwing her off balance, her arms wheeling, a scream escaping her like whistling steam. She was falling . . .
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion then – she knew she couldn’t keep herself upright but she desperately fought to land herself in towards the slope, her cheek scraping against stone, one knee slamming heavily against a submerged rock. The pain shot through her like a white light but she barely registered it as, prone on all fours, the water rushed in where it could – up her trouser legs, under the hem of her jacket, in at the cuffs and neck. It was a level of cold she couldn’t articulate, robbing even the breath from her. All she was aware of, over everyone’s shouts, was the roar of the water . . . the cold . . .
And then a hand. A hand closed around her wrist like a steel vice, pulling her up and out of the river like a caught salmon. Her feet didn’t even touch the ground as she was unceremoniously half dragged, half carried back to the bank, water emptying from inside her clothes like an upturned bucket.
‘What the hell did I tell you?’ Anders shouted at her, his face contorted with an anger that whipped the relief from her and filled her with a fresh fear. ‘You could have been killed! You would have been killed if you had gone over! You understand that, yes? Right now – you would be dead. Dead!’
His hands were tight upon her arms, his eyes colder than the water she had just fallen into. Shocked hot tears splashed from her eyes as her lungs filled with desperate breaths. She wanted to tell him she was sorry but the words wouldn’t come. She was shaking violently, stunned and in pain, soaking wet, still frightened, too bewildered. It had all happened so slowly – and yet too fast to react.
‘Stop shouting at her!’ Anna yelled hotly, clambering over to them. ‘Can’t you see she’s in shock?’
Anders released her but Bo thought she might drop to the ground without his support. Her muscles wouldn’t seem to work. Her body seemed to have a life of its own, the muscles absolutely rigid and spasming. ‘I said this would happen!’
‘Well “I told you so” is not going to help anyone now!’ Anna cried, seeing how the water was still sloshing from inside her clothes. ‘God, she’s really wet and shivering.’
They both looked at her with worried expressions.
‘. . . We have to get her back to the farm,’ Anders said, his voice suddenly different. Concerned. For some reason, it sounded more scary than when he’d been shouting.
‘But that’s a two-hour hike!’ Anna protested.
‘Then we had better start,’ he snapped, making to head back up the slope.
Bo tried to obediently follow after, to mitigate for the inconvenience she had caused, but as she put her weight on her right leg, she cried out, stumbling forward.
Anders turned, startled. ‘What now?’
‘M-my knee,’ she panted, still shivering wildly, unable to meet his gaze. ‘I h-hurt my knee when I f-fell.’
There was a pause, Anders’ expression changing again – this time from concern to fear. ‘Stand on it,’ he said, watching her closely.
She tried, but as soon as she put her weight on it, she cried out again and stumbled forward. He caught her easily, setting her back to upright as though she was a toppled chair. Slowly, she brought her gaze to his, frightened of the quiet rage she knew she would see there. ‘I d-don’t th-think I c-can walk,’ she said quietly, her teeth chattering.
A face appeared above the bank. Lenny, his eyes wild with fright and framed by his long, dangling hair. ‘Fuck!’ he cried, slapping one hand to his forehead as he took in the sight of Bo shivering wildly, her gaze distant. ‘What happened?’
It was a rhetorical question. Surely it was perfectly obvious what happened. The real question was what they were going to do about it now. Here.
Everyone except Bo was watching Anders. He looked back at them all with an expression of unchecked disgust before turning and looking around at the area. The woods butted up almost to the edges of the waterfall, but for the small exposed area of grass where they had lunched. It was turning gradually white – the sleet coming down harder now and beginning to settle, the weather beginning to close in fast.
He tutted, shaking his head and looking furious. He turned to them all again. ‘If she can’t walk then I’ll have to bring the helicopter round, there’s no other way to get her back,’ he said with a hard expression. ‘Which means going back to the farm and picking up the rib first.’
‘You’re not going to leave us here, are you?’ Anna asked, looking panicky.
‘No. But only because there won’t be enough room for all of you to come back in the chopper. You’ll have to follow me – but we’ll be going at my pace, which is fast. I won’t wait for you. She needs to get back in the warmth as quickly as possible.’
A skitter of stones down the embankment made them all look up as Zac’s frantic expression suddenly peered down at them from the bank too. ‘Holy fuck! Is she okay?’ he panted, his hands still powdered white, karabiners jangling at his waist. ‘Bo? Baby?’
Bo looked at him but he sounded very far away; it was as though she was seeing him underwater. She felt her good leg buckle beneath the weight of supporting her.
‘Bo!’ Zac cried, readying to jump down to them.
‘No, stay up there. We’re coming back up,’ Anders said, scooping her up and climbing off the rocks, carrying her quickly to the trees where he settled her down on the grass, right beside the trees. It was dry there – well, drier – away from the mist and the roar, the sleet that was becoming snow . . . She wasn’t sure if she was still shivering now; her body felt curiously detached from her and she couldn’t feel much except for the pain in her knee like a radiant heat.
‘Christ, look at the colour of her, man,’ Zac fretted, going pale himself as he got close to her.
Bo saw their faces all turn to her again. What were they saying? She kept catching the tail end of words.
She saw Anders look across at Zac; they seemed to say something to each other without using words. ‘We need to act quickly. Anna, come with me,’ he commanded. ‘You can get the fire going back at the cabin and run a hot bath for her. Zac, you come too.’
‘What? No! I’m not leaving Bo here!’
‘Lenny can stay with her. But if you and Anna fall behind and I get separated from you both, I need you to be responsible for getting Anna back safely.’
‘But—’
‘You’re the one with mountain experience. I can’t have two people stranded out here. The weather is getting worse.’
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Zac said through gritted teeth, looking down desperately at Bo. ‘How is this even happening?’
‘Zac, it’s fine, man. I’ll take good care of Bo,’ Lenny said. ‘I won’t let anything happen to her, swear on my life.’
Anders shrugged his coat off. ‘Keep her warm. Get this on her.’
‘Sure thing,’ Lenny said, taking it and bundling it around her.
‘But won’t you need your coat?’ Anna asked Anders. ‘It’s so exposed on the top of the mountain.’
‘I won’t feel it when I’m walking. I’ll be fine,’ he replied briskly. ‘Now let’s go.’
From behind her glass wall, Bo watched them climb up the grassy slope, their backs retreating from her, little blocks of colour that became smaller and smaller until within a few minutes they disappeared out of sight altogether, leaving her and Lenny behind. Zac kept turning every few metres, his pale frantic face looking to her like a bleached-out dot. She wished she could keep her eyes on the spot where he had slipped into the trees with the others but it was hard to keep her eyes open. She felt so sleepy now. So tired . . .
‘It’s okay, Bo, you’re gonna be okay,’ she heard Lenny say determinedly, a shiver trembling through his body as he wrapped his own bulk around her, trying to create a windbreak. ‘We’ll be fine. Totally fine. They’ll be back f
or us in no time, you’ll see.’
He didn’t sound convinced.
Chapter Ten
It was like floating. As her eyelids fluttered against the light, her ears strained for sound but nothing came. She felt like she was being cradled in a cloud – weightless, drifting . . . She could sense light, bright light, and a heaviness upon her, pressing her down onto something soft.
With effort, she opened her eyes, closing them almost immediately as the light rushed at her like ghouls, making her flinch and startle. After a couple of moments she tried again. This time, her body was braced and, slowly, she was able to focus: her brain making sense of the flaming copper bath, the spindle chair with a yellow jacket hanging on it, the square that was a window, an almost celestial light blazing through.
Her fingers twitched as she saw that she was in bed, half buried beneath a pile of covers that made it difficult to move. She realized she couldn’t feel her arms or legs – she had no idea if they were lying straight or splayed, such was the leaden heaviness in her limbs, and she wondered how long she had been here and if she had once moved?
Turning her head on the pillow, she saw Zac curled up beside her. He was lying on top of the covers, fast asleep, but something – her movement – must have disturbed him because he stirred, a small spasm flickering across his face before his eyes met hers in shock, startling them both. He sat up, his body as rigid and tense as an arrow. ‘You’re awake.’
‘I guess so,’ she said quietly. ‘What . . . what happened?’ But even as she asked, images flickered through her mind: the white froth of water; the black rocks; an orange warmth; his face against the trees . . .
‘You slipped and fell in the water. You were hypothermic. But everything’s fine now. You’re safe.’
Safe. She looked around at the sparse bedroom, the place they were calling home for the next few weeks. ‘How did I get back here?’
‘Anders brought the helicopter round.’
‘The helicopter?’ she repeated weakly. Surely she should remember that?
‘Yeah, Lenny said it was pretty hairy watching – there wasn’t much room and the only bit where he could land wasn’t flat. Credit to him, from everything Len said, he’s a damned good pilot. Anders was back with you in an hour and forty; it could have been a lot worse. The weather came in so quickly.’ He frowned. ‘Jeez, on the way back we were walking into the wind and visibility was so bad, Anna almost stepped right off a ridge.’
It was all she could do to pucker her brow. ‘But she’s okay?’ she asked weakly. She felt nauseous, unsettled, something niggling at the corners of her mind.
‘Yeah everyone’s fine. We’ve all just been worried about you. You’ve been out cold for nearly twenty-four hours.’ She had? ‘Do you remember getting in the bath?’
She blinked again. ‘No.’ No Lenny, no helicopter, no bath.
‘Nuh, you were really out of it. Anders was properly worried for a bit, started saying we should get you up to the hospital in Alesund for some warmed IV, but I knew you’d be fine. Anna and I got this place like a furnace while Anders was bringing you back – stove roaring, steaming bath, hot pans in the bed the old-fashioned way, hot-water bottles and every blanket we could find – which was nine in all by the way. You were like a reverse princess and the pea,’ he grinned.
‘Thank you,’ she said in a stripling voice. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘Hey, what are you sorry for?’ he hushed. ‘It’s not your fault.’ He reached over and kissed her temple and she closed her eyes. But she remembered Anders trying to stop her, his words of caution, his stern expression as she’d larked about in the water – all for the sake of a nice photo.
‘Where is everyone? It’s so quiet.’
‘Anna and Lenny have gone into town to get stuff for dinner. They’ll be back in a while.’
‘Lenny—’
‘Don’t worry, he’s fine. He got a bit of a chill too but Anna let him have a bath at hers when you guys got back yesterday.’
‘Is he okay?’ she whispered.
‘More worried about you than anything. The snow came in really hard after we left but he somehow managed to stop you from getting colder and your condition deteriorating. He was a bit of a hero, to be honest.’
‘Hero? Not Anders?’
Zac sighed and gave a reluctant nod. ‘Yeah, him too. Goddam heroes everywhere you look.’ He reached behind him for a water glass and handed it to her. ‘Here, drink up.’
Bo did as she was told, too weak not to, taking several small sips and suddenly realizing her lips were dry and chapped. She pushed the glass away again. She felt drained and still shivery. ‘Is he here, Anders? I should thank him.’
‘No.’
Strangely, the word felt like a rock, cold and hard upon her chest. He had gone. She leant her head against Zac’s chest. ‘Well you’re my hero,’ she whispered, closing her eyes and feeling the heaviness of sleep press down on her again. Unable to resist.
It was dark when she stirred again – not the midnight velvet of twilight, but the diaphanous silk of dawn, a feeble poke against the tumbled clouds that clung to the mountaintops as though magnetically fastened there.
Bo stared out of the window at the slowly rippling blue symphony; the nights were so long and dark here, curtains weren’t required to keep the light out. But she had been in this room for thirty-six hours now and her body – and in particular, her bladder – felt suddenly, desperately awake. With a sinking heart, she remembered the outhouse. Oh God, what she wouldn’t give for an en-suite right now. But nature was calling . . .
Heaving herself up into a sitting position, shivering at the slightest breath of air against her body, she winced and gave a small gasp of pain as she tried to move her right leg; she pulled the mass of blankets away to get a look at her knee. She had been put into a heavy pale blue flannel neck-to-ankles nightgown that could only have belonged to Anders’ grandmother and she had to rustle up the skirt to see her own skin. She flinched at the sight of the dramatic bruise that spread out from the kneecap like a black rose, the leg swollen and stiff-looking. Pressing her hand to it lightly, it felt hot to the touch, a small ridge of swelling pressing into the cup of her palm.
Beside her, Zac slept again – open-mouthed and snoring slightly, but still beautiful. He was wearing Ridge Riders thermals, the first signs of another beard beginning to speckle his jaw and cheeks once more. She wondered if he had left her side at all. On the side table sat a tray: tomato soup and hot chocolate, both now covered with a thick skin.
Feeling weak and light-headed, and unable to stop a small groan of effort, she tentatively got her feet to the floor and tried to stand. Her knee instinctively didn’t want to lock but there was no bolt of anguish, no white shock of pain if she kept it bent, her heel off the floor. She stood for a moment, letting her body readjust to gravity.
Feeling the dizziness pass, she took the topmost blanket from the pile and, wrapping it over her shoulder, limped towards the door and looked out into the living room. Everything was still. The stove to her right was still warm but there was no beam of light coming from Lenny’s loft. Everyone was asleep.
Shutting the bedroom door lightly and keeping her weight on her good leg, she managed to get another few logs on the fire, pushing gingerly at the warm cinders with the poker before her bladder impressed itself upon her consciousness again. She hurried, limping, to the front door. Zac’s climbing boots had been left there and, although far too big, she slid her feet in, opening the door wide and—
Her mouth dropped open. She stepped out with a look of utter astonishment. Snow had fallen heavily at some point – or possibly constantly – since she had been brought back here, and now everything was white. Utterly pristine and perfect, it was a sparkling wonderland, the world blanketed into a pillowy softness: the trees looked padded, bushes sprang like marshmallows, and Signy’s cabin immediately behind only just seemed to peer above the ground like a half-risen soufflé.
Turning
around the side of the house, she looked down towards the fjord at water so dark, it was as though ink had been dropped into it. She gave a shudder at the sight, the cold touch of it a still-visceral memory. She saw the menace below its serene surface now. This remote wilderness had a breath-taking beauty that stirred the soul. But it was still a wilderness.
The snow creaked underfoot with each painful step as she hobbled as fast as she could towards the outhouse, Zac’s boots threatening to fall off with every tread, gripping the blanket ever tighter to her shoulders. It was too cold to be out here in just a nightie and blanket and boots. She needed layers, thermals. That yellow jacket. But she hadn’t known about the snow when she’d stepped out, and her bladder wouldn’t be denied a minute longer.
With fumbling hands, feeling her teeth begin to chatter again, she let herself into the tiny hut, her body trembling with relief as she passed water. But even in the space of a few minutes, the chill that had set seed in her bones two days earlier, bloomed again in full power as though it hadn’t ever gone but merely slept, her muscles going into microspasms as the cold marched through her like an ice army.
She tried to run back, but her knee and the too big boots would not allow it and a day and a half without food had left her weak. She staggered up the sloping path and back to the cabin door, fumbling with the latch as her skin made contact with the freezing metal, and she all but fell into the cabin again, panting from the effort.
‘Bo?’ She heard the voice behind her, concern singing out. But the heat inside the cabin was clamouring to greet her too, wrapping around her like a woollen scarf, the contrast of cold-to-warm too sudden, too great and before she could reach the wall or grab anything to hold on to – she felt herself crumple to the floor.
‘Bo?’
She blinked. Anders face was upside down and peering over her with an expression of alarm. Oh God, not again. ‘I’m . . . I’m fine,’ she stammered, trying to push herself up to a sitting position.
